,   f 


LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
DAVIS 


AMOS   JUDD 


AMOS  JUDD 


BY 

J.  A.  MITCHELL 

EDITOR  OF  LIFE 


CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 
NEW  YORK,  1895 

LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
DAVIS 


COPYRIGHT,  1895,  BY 
CHARLES   SCRIBNER'S  SONS 


TROW  DIRECTORY 

PRINTING  AMD   BOOKBINDING  COMPANY 
NEW  YORK 


AMOS  JUDD 


AT  the  station  of  Bingham  Cross  Roads, 
four  passengers  got  off  the  train.  One,  a 
woman  with  bundles,  who  was  evidently  fa- 
miliar with  her  surroundings,  walked  rapidly 
away  through  the  hot  September  Sunshine 
toward  the  little  village  in  the  distance. 

The  other  three  stood  on  the  platform  and 
looked  about,  as  if  taking  their  bearings. 
They  were  foreigners  of  an  unfamiliar  spe- 
cies. Their  fellow -passengers  in  the  car  had 
discussed  them  with  an  interest  not  entirely 
free  from  suspicion,  and  their  finally  getting 
out  at  such  an  unimportant  station  as  Bing- 
ham Cross  Roads  caused  a  surprise  which, 
although  reasonably  under  control,  was  still 
too  strong  for  concealment.  From  the  win- 
dows of  the  car  at  least  a  dozen  pairs  of  eyes 
were  watching  them.  The  two  men  and  the 


2  AMOS  JUDD 

little  boy  who  composed  this  group  were  of 
dark  complexion,  with  clean  cut,  regular 
features.  The  oldest,  a  man  of  sixty  years 
or  more,  had  a  military  bearing,  and  was,  if 
one  could  judge  from  appearances,  a  person 
of  authority  in  his  own  country,  wherever 
that  might  be.  Although  the  younger  man 
seemed  to  resemble  him,  it  was  in  such  a 
general  way  that  he  might  be  either  his  son 
or  no  relation  whatever. 

But  the  little  boy  had  excited  a  yet  greater 
interest  than  his  companions.  Although  but 
six  or  seven  years  old,  he  comported  himself 
with  as  much  dignity  and  reserve  as  the  gen- 
tleman with  the  silver  hair.  This  gave  the 
impression,  and  without  apparent  intention 
on  his  part,  that  he  also  was  an  important 
personage.  His  dark  eyes  were  strikingly 
beautiful  and,  like  those  of  his  seniors,  were 
distinctly  foreign  in  design. 

When  the  train  moved  away  the  three 
travellers  approached  the  man  with  one  sus- 
pender, who  filled  the  position  of  station 
agent,  baggage -master,  switchman,  telegraph 
operator  and  freight  clerk,  and  inquired  if 
there  was  a  conveyance  to  the  village  of 
Daleford.  He  pointed  to  a  wagon  at  the 
farther  end  of  the  platform ;  that  was  the 


AMOS  JUDD  3 

Daleford  stage.  In  answer  to  further  ques- 
tions they  learned  that  the  next  train  back 
again,  toward  New  York,  left  at  six  thirty ; 
that  Daleford  was  seven  miles  away;  that 
they  could  spend  an  hour  in  that  village 
and  catch  the  train  without  hurrying. 

The  only  baggage  on  the  platform  con- 
sisted of  two  peculiar  looking  trunks,  or 
rather  boxes,  which  the  multifarious  official 
knew  to  be  theirs,  as  no  similar  articles  had 
ever  been  manufactured  in  America.  They 
were  covered  with  designs  laid  on  in  metal, 
all  elaborately  engraved,  and  it  was  not  sus- 
pected along  the  route  that  these  profuse 
and  tarnished  ornaments  were  of  solid  silver. 
This  luggage  was  strapped  behind  the  stage, 
two  venerable  horses  were  awakened  and 
the  travellers  started  off.  Joe,  the  driver,  a 
youth  with  large  ears  and  a  long  neck,  soon 
gave  his  passengers  some  excellent  oppor- 
tunities to  explain  themselves,  which  they 
neglected.  Aside  from  a  few  simple  ques- 
tions about  Daleford  and  Mr.  Josiah  Judd, 
to  whose  house  they  were  going,  the  con- 
versation was  in  a  language  of  which  he 
had  no  knowledge.  The  first  two  miles  of 
their  route  lay  along  the  Connecticut  valley, 
after  which  they  climbed  to  higher  ground. 


4  AMOS  JUDD 

The  boy  seemed  interested  in  the  size  of  the 
elms,  the  smell  of  the  tobacco  fields,  the 
wild  grapes,  and  the  various  things  that  any 
boy  might  notice  who  had  never  seen  their 
like  before. 

The  day  was  warm,  and  the  road  dusty, 
and  when  they  entered  Daleford  the  boy, 
with  the  old  gentleman's  arm  about  him, 
had  been  asleep  for  several  miles.  Coming 
into  the  village  at  one  end,  they  drove 
down  the  main  street,  beneath  double  rows 
of  elms  that  met  above  their  heads  in  lofty 
arches,  the  wide  common  on  their  right. 
The  strangers  expressed  their  admiration  at 
the  size  and  beauty  of  these  trees.  Moreover 
the  cool  shade  was  restful  and  refreshing. 
No  signs  of  human  life  were  visible  either  in 
the  street  or  about  the  white  houses  that 
faced  the  common,  and  this  with  the  un- 
broken silence  gave  an  impression  that  the 
inhabitants,  if  they  existed,  were  either  ab- 
sent or  asleep. 

The  driver  stopped  for  a  moment  at  the 
post-office  which  occupied  a  corner  in  the 
only  store,  and  gave  the  mail  -  bag  to  the 
post-mistress,  a  pale  young  woman  with  eye- 
glasses and  a  wealth  of  artificial  hair ;  then, 
after  rumbling  through  the  village  for  half  a 


AMOS  JUDD  5 

mile,  they  found  themselves  again  in  the 
country. 

The  last  house  on  the  right,  with  its  mas- 
sive portico  of  Doric  columns,  seemingly  of 
white  marble,  had  the  appearance  of  a  Gre- 
cian temple.  But  these  appearances  were 
deceptive,  the  building  being  a  private  res- 
idence and  the  material  of  native  pine. 

As  they  approached  this  mendacious  ex- 
terior the  little  boy  said  something  in  the 
foreign  language  to  his  companions,  where- 
upon they  told  the  driver  to  stop  at  the 
door,  as  Mr.  Judd  was  inside. 

"  That  ain't  Mr.  Judd's  house,"  he  an- 
swered. "  His  is  nearly  a  mile  farther  on, 
around  that  hill,"  and  he  gave  the  horses  a 
gentle  blow  to  emphasize  the  information. 
But  the  boy  repeated  his  statement,  whatever 
it  was,  and  the  younger  man  said,  with  some 
decision : 

"  Mr.  Judd  is  inside.     Stop  here." 

As  the  driver  drew  up  before  the  house  he 
remarked,  with  a  sarcastic  smile  : 

"If  Mr.  Judd  lives  here,  he's  moved  in 
since  mornin'." 

But  the  remark  made  no  visible  impres- 
sion. They  all  got  out,  and  while  the  two 
men  approached  the  front  door  by  an  old- 


6  AMOS  JUDD 

fashioned  brick  walk,  the  boy  strolled  leis- 
urely through  the  grassy  yard  beside  the 
house.  The  driver  was  speculating  within 
himself  as  to  what  kind  of  a  pig-headed  no- 
tion made  them  persist  in  stopping  at  Dea- 
con Barlow's,  when,  to  his  surprise,  Mr.  Judd 
emerged  from  a  doorway  at  the  side  and  ad- 
vanced with  long  strides  toward  the  diminu- 
tive figure  in  his  path. 

Mr.  Judd  was  a  man  about  sixty  years  of 
age,  tall,  thin  and  high  -  shouldered.  His 
long,  bony  face  bore  no  suggestions  of 
beauty,  but  there  was  honesty  in  every  line. 
The  black  clothes  which  hung  loosely  upon 
his  figure  made  him  seem  even  taller  and 
thinner  that  he  really  was.  The  boy  looked 
him  pleasantly  in  the  face  and,  when  he 
had  approached  sufficiently  near,  said,  in  a 
clear,  childish  voice,  slowly  and  with  labori- 
ous precision  : 

"  Josiah  Judd,  the  General  Subahdar 
Divodas  Gadi  and  the  Prince  Rajanya  Kasim 
Mir  Dewan  Musnud  desire  to  speak  with 
you." 

Mr.  Judd  stopped  short,  the  bushy  eye- 
brows rising  high  in  astonishment.  His 
mouth  opened,  but  no  sound  came  forth. 
The  foreign  appearance  of  the  speaker,  his 


AMOS  JUDD  7 

familiar  manner  of  addressing  one  so  much 
older  than  himself,  together  with  a  demeanor 
that  showed  no  signs  of  disrespect,  and  above 
all,  his  allusion  to  the  presence  of  titled  stran- 
gers caused  the  American  to  suspect,  for  a 
few  seconds,  that  he  was  the  victim  of  some 
mental  irregularity.  He  pushed  the  straw 
hat  from  his  forehead,  and  looked  more 
carefully.  The  youthful  stranger  observed 
this  bewilderment,  and  he  was  evidently  sur- 
prised that  such  a  simple  statement  should  be 
received  in  so  peculiar  a  manner.  But  Mr. 
Judd  recovered  his  composure,  lowered  the 
bushy  eyebrows,  and  drawing  his  hand 
across  his  mouth  as  if  to  get  it  into  shape 
again,  asked : 

"Who  did  you  say  wanted  to  see  me, 
sonny  ?  ' ' 

A  small  hand  was  ceremoniously  waved 
toward  the  two  strangers  who  were  now 
approaching  along  the  Doric  portico.  Com- 
ing up  to  Mr.  Judd  they  saluted  him  with  a 
stately  deference  that  was  seldom  witnessed 
in  Daleforcl,  and  the  General  handed  him  a 
letter,  asking  if  he  were  not  Mr.  Josiah  Judd. 

"Yes,  sir,  that's  my  name,"  and  as  he 
took  the  letter,  returned  their  salutations  po- 
litely, but  in  a  lesser  degree.  He  was  not 


8  AMOS  JUDD 

yet  sure  that  the  scene  was  a  real  one.  The 
letter,  however,  was  not  only  real,  but  he 
recognized  at  once  the  handwriting  of  his 
brother  Morton,  who  had  been  in  India  the 
last  dozen  years.  Morton  Judd  was  a  suc- 
cessful merchant  and  had  enjoyed  for  some 
years  considerable  financial  and  political  im- 
portance in  a  certain  portion  of  that  country. 

DEAR  JOSIAH  : 

This  letter  will  be  handed  you  by  two  trustworthy 
gentlemen  whose  names  it  is  safer  not  to  write. 
They  will  explain  all  you  wish  to  know  regarding  the 
boy  they  leave  in  your  charge.  Please  take  care  of 
this  boy  at  least  for  a  time  and  treat  him  as  your  own 
son.  I  am  writing  this  at  short  notice  and  in  great 
haste.  You  have  probably  read  of  the  revolution 
here  that  has  upset  everything.  This  boy's  life, 
together  with  the  lives  of  many  others,  depends  upon 
the  secrecy  with  which  we  keep  the  knowledge  of 
his  whereabouts  from  those  now  in  power. 

Will  write  you  more  fully  of  all    this   in  a  few 
days.     Give  my  love  to  Sarah,  and  I  hope  you  are 
all  well.     Hannah  and  I  are  in  excellent  health. 
Your  affectionate  brother, 

MORTON  JUDD. 

P,  S.  You  might  give  out  that  the  boy  is  an 
adopted  child  of  mine  and  call  him  Amos  Judd,  after 
father. 

These  words  threw  a  needed  light  on  the 
situation.  He  shook  hands  with  the  two 


AMOS  JUDD  9 

visitors  and  greeted  them  cordially,  then,  ap- 
proaching the  boy  who  was  absorbed  in  the 
movements  of  some  turkeys  that  were  stroll- 
ing about  the  yard,  he  bent  over  and  held 
out  his  hand,  saying,  with  a  pleasant  smile  : 

"  And  you,  sir,  are  very  welcome.  I 
think  we  can  take  good  care  of  you." 

But  the  child  looked  inquiringly  from  the 
hand  up  to  its  owner's  face. 

"Mr.  Judd  wishes  to  take  your  hand," 
said  the  General,  then  adding,  by  way  of 
explanation,  "  He  never  shook  hands  be- 
fore. But  these  customs  he  will  soon  ac- 
quire." The  small  hand  was  laid  in  the 
large  one  and  moved  up  and  down  after  the 
manner  of  the  country. 

"  Don't  they  shake  hands  in  India?'1 
asked  Mr.  Judd,  as  if  it  were  something  of  a 
joke.  "  How  do  you  let  another  man  know 
you're  glad  to  see  him  ?  " 

"Oh,  yes,  we  shake  hands  sometimes. 
The  English  taught  us  that.  But  it  is  not 
usual  with  persons  of  his  rank.  It  will  be 
easily  learned,  however." 

After  a  word  or  two  more  they  took  their 
seats  in  the  wagon,  the  boy  at  his  own  re- 
quest getting  in  front  with  the  driver. 
They  soon  came  in  sight  of  the  Judd  resi- 


io  AMOS  JUDD 

dence,  a  large,  white,  square,  New  England 
farmhouse  of  the  best  type,  standing  on 
rising  ground  several  hundred  feet  from  the 
road,  at  the  end  of  a  long  avenue  of  maples. 
Clustered  about  it  were  some  magnificent 
elms.  As  they  entered  the  avenue  the 
driver,  whose  curiosity  could  be  restrained 
no  longer,  turned  and  said  to  the  boy  : 

"  Did  you  ever  see  Mr.  Judd  before?  " 

"No." 

"  Then  how  did  you  know  'twas  him?  " 

"By  his  face." 

He  looked  down  with  a  sharp  glance,  but 
the  boy's  expression  was  serious,  even  mel- 
ancholy. 

"  Ever  been  in  this  town  before  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  Did  Mr.  Judd  know  you  was  corn- 
in' ?" 

"  No." 

"  Then  what  in  thunder  made  you  s'pose 
he  was  in  Deacon  Barlow's  ?  " 

"  In  thunder?  " 

'tWhat  made  you  think  he  was  in  that 
house?" 

The  boy  looked  off  over  the  landscape  and 
hesitated  before  answering. 

"  I  knew  he  was  to  be  there." 


AMOS  JUDD  II 

' '  Oh,  then  he  expected  you  ?  ' ' 

"No." 

Joe  laughed.  "  That's  sort  of  mixed, 
ain't  it?  Mr.  Judd  was  there  to  meet  you 
when  he  didn't  know  you  were  comin'. 
Kinder  met  you  by  appointment  when  there 
wasn't  any.'*  This  was  said  in  a  sarcastic 
manner,  and  he  added  : 

"  You  was  pretty  sot  on  stoppin'  and  I'd 
like  to  know  how  you  come  to  be  so  pop 
sure  he  was  inside." 

The  dark  eyes  looked  up  at  him  in  gentle 
astonishment.  This  gave  way  to  a  gleam  of 
anger,  as  they  detected  a  mocking  expression, 
and  the  lips  parted  as  if  to  speak.  But  there 
seemed  to  be  a  change  of  mind,  for  he  said 
nothing,  looking  away  toward  the  distant 
hills  in  contemptuous  silence.  The  driver,  as 
a  free  and  independent  American,  was  irri- 
tated by  this  attempted  superiority  in  a  for- 
eigner, and  especially  in  such  a  young  one, 
but  there  was  no  time  to  retaliate. 

Mrs.  Judd,  a  large,  sandy-haired,  strong- 
featured  woman,  gave  the  guests  a  cordial 
welcome.  The  outlandish  trunks  found  their 
way  up  stairs,  instructions  were  given  the 
driver  to  call  in  an  hour,  and  Mrs.  Judd, 
with  the  servant,  hastened  preparations  for  a 


12  AMOS  JUDD 

dinner,  as   the   travellers,  she  learned,  had 
eaten  nothing  since  early  morning. 

When  these  were  going  on  Mr.  Judd  and 
the  three  guests  went  into  the  parlor,  which, 
like  many  others  in  New  England,  was  a 
triumph  of  severity.  Although  fanatically 
clean,  it  possessed  the  usual  stuffy  smell  that 
is  inevitable  where  fresh  air  and  sunlight  are 
habitually  excluded.  There  were  four  win- 
dows, none  of  which  were  open.  All  the 
blinds  were  closed.  In  this  dim  light,  some 
hair  ornaments,  wax  flowers,  a  marriage  cer- 
tificate and  a  few  family  photographs  of  as- 
siduous and  unrelenting  aspect  seemed  wait- 
ing, in  hostile  patience,  until  the  next  funeral 
or  other  congenial  ceremony  should  disturb 
their  sepulchral  peace.  While  the  men  seated 
themselves  about  the  table,  the  boy  climbed 
upon  a  long  horse-hair  sofa,  whence  he  re- 
garded them  with  a  bored  but  dignified 
patience.  The  General,  before  seating  him- 
self, had  taken  from  his  waist  an  old-fash- 
ioned money-belt,  which  he  laid  upon  the 
table.  From  this  he  extracted  a  surprising 
number  of  gold  and  silver  coins  and  ar- 
ranged them  in  little  stacks.  Mr.  Judd's 
curiosity  was  further  increased  when  he  took 
from  other  portions  of  the  belt  a  number 


AMOS  JUDD  13 

of  English  bank-notes,  which  he  smoothed 
out  and  also  laid  before  his  host. 

"  There  are  twelve  thousand  pounds  in 
these  notes,"  he  said,  "and  about  two 
thousand  in  sovereigns,  with  a  few  hundred 
in  American  money. ' ' 

"  Fourteen  thousand  pounds,"  said  Mr. 
Judd,  making  a  rough  calculation,  "  that's 
about  seventy  thousand  dollars." 

The  General  nodded  toward  the  boy. 
"  It  belongs  to  him.  Your  brother,  Mr. 
Morton  Judd,  perhaps  told  you  we  left  in 
great  haste,  and  this  is  "all  of  the  available 
property  we  had  time  to  convert  into  money. 
The  rest  will  be  sent  you  later.  That  is, 
whatever  we  can  secure  of  it. ' ' 

Now  Mr.  Judd  had  never  been  fond  of 
responsibility.  It  was  in  fact  his  chief 
reason  for  remaining  on  the  farm  while  his 
younger  brother  went  out  into  the  world  for 
larger  game.  Moreover,  seventy  thousand 
dollars,  to  one  brought  up  as  he  had  been, 
seemed  an  absurdly  large  amount  of  money 
to  feed  and  clothe  a  single  boy. 

"  But  what  am  I  to  do  with  it?  Save  it 
up  and  give  him  the  interest  ?  ' ' 

"Yes,  or  whatever  you  and  Mr.  Morton 
Judd  may  decide  upon." 


14  AMOS  JUDD 

While  Mr.  Judd  was  drawing  his  hand 
across  his  forehead  to  smooth  out  the 
wrinkles  he  felt  were  coming,  the  General 
brought  forth  from  an  inner  pocket  a  small 
silk  bag.  Untying  the  cord  he  carefully 
emptied  upon  the  table  a  handful  of  precious 
stones.  Mr.  Judd  was  no  expert  in  such 
things,  but  they  were  certainly  very  pretty 
to  look  at  and,  moreover,  they  seemed  very 
large. 

"  These,"  continued  the  General,  "are 
of  considerable  value,  the  rubies  particu- 
larly, which,  as  you  will  see,  are  of  unusual 
size." 

He  spoke  with  enthusiasm,  and  held  up 
one  or  two  of  them  to  the  light.  Mr.  Judd 
sadly  acknowledged  that  they  were  very 
handsome,  and  threw  a  hostile  glance  at  the 
gleaming,  many  -  colored,  fiery  -  eyed  mass 
before  him.  "  How  much  do  they  repre- 
sent, the  whole  lot  ?  ' ' 

The  General  looked  inquiringly  at  his 
companion.  The  Prince  shook  his  head. 
"It  is  impossible  to  say,  but  we  can  give  a 
rough  estimate." 

Then  taking  them  one  by  one,  rubies, 
diamonds,  emeralds,  pearls,  and  sapphires, 
they  made  a  list,  putting  the  value  of  each 


AMOS  JUDD  15 

in  the  currency  of  their  own  country,  and 
figured  up  the  total  amount  in  English 
pounds. 

"  As  near  as  it  is  possible  to  estimate," 
said  the  Prince,  "  their  value  is  about  one 
hundred  and  sixty  thousand  pounds." 

"One  hundred  and  sixty  thousand 
pounds!"  exclaimed  Mr.  Judd.  "Eight 
hundred  thousand  dollars  !  ' '  and  with  a 
frown  he  pushed  his  chair  from  the  table. 
The  General  misunderstood  the  movement, 
and  said  :  "  But,  sir,  there  are  few  finer 
jewels  in  India,  or  even  in  the  world  !  " 

"Oh,  that's  all  right,"  said  Mr.  Judd, 
"  I'm  not  doubting  their  worth.  It's  only 
kind  of  sudden,"  and  he  drew  his  hands 
across  his  eyes,  as  if  to  shut  out  the  dazzling 
mass  that  flashed  balefully  up  at  him  from 
the  table.  For  a  New  England  farmer,  Jo- 
siah  Judd  was  a  prosperous  man.  In  fact  he 
was  the  richest  man  in  Daleford.  But  if  all 
his  earthly  possessions  were  converted  into 
cash  they  would  never  realize  a  tenth  part 
of  the  unwelcome  treasure  that  now  lay 
before  him.  He  was,  therefore,  somewhat 
startled  at  being  deluged,  as  it  were,  out  of  a 
clear  sky,  with  the  responsibility  of  nearly  a 
million  dollars.  The  guests  also  mentioned 


1 6  AMOS  JUDD 

some  pearls  of  extraordinary  value  in  one  of 
the  trunks. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  with  an  air  of  resigna- 
tion, "  I  s'pose  there's  no  dodgin'  it,  and  I'll 
have  to  do  the  best  I  can  till  I  hear  from 
Morton.  After  the  boy  goes  back  to  India 
of  course  I  sha'n't  have  the  care  of  it." 

The  General  glanced  toward  the  sofa  to  be 
sure  he  was  not  overheard,  then  answered,  in 
a  low  voice :  "  It  will  be  better  for  him  and 
will  save  the  shedding  of  blood  if  he  never 
returns." 

But  the  boy  heard  nothing  in  that  room. 
He  was  slumbering  peacefully,  with  his  head 
against  the  high  back  of  the  sofa,  and  his 
spirit,  if  one  could  judge  from  the  smile 
upon  his  lips,  was  once  more  in  his  own 
land,  among  his  own  people.  Perhaps  play- 
ing with  another  little  boy  in  an  Oriental 
garden,  a  garden  of  fountains  and  gorgeous 
flowers,  of  queer -shaped  plants  with  heavy 
foliage,  a  quiet,  dreamy  garden,  where  the 
white  walls  of  the  palace  beside  it  were  sup- 
ported by  innumerable  columns,  with  ele- 
phants' heads  for  capitals  :  where,  below  a 
marble  terrace,  the  broad  Ganges  shimmered 
beneath  a. golden  sun. 

Maybe  the  drowsy  air  of  this  ancestral 


AMOS  JUDD  17 

garden  with  its  perfume  of  familiar  flowers 
made  his  sleep  more  heavy,  or  was  it  the 
thrum  of  gentle  ringers  upon  a  mandolin  in 
a  distant  corner  of  the  garden,  mingling  with 
a  woman's  voice? 

Whatever  the  cause,  it  produced  a  shock, 
this  being  summoned  back  to  America,  to 
exile,  and  to  the  hair-cloth  sofa  by  the  voice 
of  Mrs.  Judd  announcing  dinner ;  for  the 
step  was  long  and  the  change  was  sudden 
from  the  princely  pleasure  garden  to  the 
Puritan  parlor,  and  every  nerve  and  fibre  of 
his  Oriental  heart  revolted  at  the  outrage. 
There  was  a  war-like  gleam  in  the  melan- 
choly eyes  as  he  joined  the  little  procession 
that  moved  toward  the  dining-room.  As 
they  sat  at  table,  the  three  guests  with  Mrs. 
Judd,  who  poured  the  tea,  he  frowned  with 
hostile  eyes  upon  the  steak,  the  boiled  pota- 
toes, the  large  wedge-shaped  piece  of  yellow 
cheese,  the  pickles,  and  the  apple-pie.  He 
was  empty  and  very  hungry,  but  he  did  not 
eat.  He  ignored  the  example  of  the  General 
and  the  Prince,  who  drank  the  strong,  green 
tea,  and  swallowed  the  saleratus  biscuits  as  if 
their  hearts'  desires  at  last  were  gratified.  He 
scowled  upon  Mrs.  Judd,  who  tried  in  vain  to 
learn  what  he  disliked  the  least.  But  her  hus- 


1 8  AMOS  JUDD 

band,  swaying  to  and  fro  in  a  rocking-chair 
near  the  window,  had  no  perception  of  the 
gathering  cloud,  and  persisted  in  question- 
ing his  visitors  in  regard  to  India,  the  cus- 
toms of  the  people,  and  finally  of  their  own 
home  life.  Mrs.  Judd  had  noticed  the  black 
eyebrows  and  restless  lips  were  becoming 
more  threatening  as  the  many  questions 
were  answered ;  that  the  two-pronged  fork 
of  horn  and  steel  was  used  solely  as  an 
offensive  weapon  to  stab  his  potatoes  and 
his  pie. 

At  last  the  tempest  came.  The  glass  of 
water  he  had  raised  with  a  trembling  hand 
to  his  lips  was  hurled  upon  the  platter  of 
steak,  and  smashed  into  a  dozen  pieces. 
With  a  swift  movement  of  his  arms,  as  if  to 
clear  the  deck,  he  pushed  the  pickles  among 
the  potatoes  and  swept  his  pie  upon  the  floor. 
Then,  after  a  futile  effort  to  push  his  chair 
from  the  table,  he  swung  his  legs  about  and 
let  himself  down  from  the  side.  With  a 
face  flushed  with  passion,  he  spoke  rapidly 
in  a  language  of  which  no  word  was  familiar 
to  his  host  or  hostess,  and  ended  by  pointing 
dramatically  at  Mr.  Judd,  the  little  brown 
finger  quivering  with  uncontrollable  fury. 
It  appeared  to  the  astonished  occupant  of 


AMOS  JUDD  19 

the  rocking  -  chair  that  the  curse  of  Al- 
lah was  being  hurled  upon  the  house  of 
Judd.  Standing  for  a  moment  in  silence 
and  glowering  upon  them  all  in  turn,  the 
boy  swung  about  with  a  defiant  gesture, 
stalked  through  the  open  door  and  out  of 
the  house. 

Josiah  Judd,  whose  heart  was  already 
sinking  under  the  responsibility  of  the  crown 
jewels  of  a  kingdom,  experienced  a  sicken- 
ing collapse  in  the  presence  of  the  Oriental 
thunderbolt  that  had  just  exploded  on  his 
peaceful  New  England  hearthstone.  His 
jaw  fell,  he  ceased  rocking,  and  turned  his 
eyes  in  painful  inquiry  upon  his  guests. 

There  was  an  awkward  silence.  The 
General  and  the  Prince  had  risen  to  their 
feet  as  if  in  apology  to  the  hostess,  but  she 
had  accepted  the  outburst  with  unruffled 
calmness.  Her  kind,  restful,  homely  face 
showed  no  annoyance.  Rising  quietly  from 
the  table  she  followed  the  stormy  guest  and 
found  him  around  in  front  of  the  house, 
sitting  upon  the  granite  door-step,  his  chin 
in  his  hands,  frowning  fiercely  upon  the 
quaint  old  flower-garden  before  him.  He 
got  up  as  she  approached  and  stood  a  few 
feet  away,  regarding  her  with  a  hostile  scowl. 


20  AMOS  JUDD 

Seating  herself  upon  the  step  she  said,  with 
a  pleasant  smile  : 

"  Of  course  you  are  tired,  sonny,  we  all 
understand  that,  and  you  are  unhappy  to- 
day, but  it  won't  be  for  long." 

These  assuring  words  failed  of  their  pur- 
pose, and  he  eyed  her  sidewise,  and  with 
suspicion.  He  was  too  old  a  bird  to  be 
fooled  so  easily.  A  few  sprigs  were  torn 
from  the  box  border  within  his  reach  as 
if  the  conversation  bored  him. 

"  I  had  a  boy  once,"  continued  Mrs. 
Judd.  "  I  understand  boys,  and  know  just 
how  you  feel.  We  shall  be  good  friends,  I'm 
sure. ' ' 

After  a  pause  devoted  to  serious  reflection, 
he  inquired  : 

"  Did  your  boy  like  you?  " 

"  Oh,  yes." 

He  came  nearer  and  stood  in  front  of  her. 
Then,  slowly  and  with  the  precision  with 
which  he  always  delivered  himself  when 
speaking  English,  he  said  : 

"  My  mother  was  different  from  you,  and 
her  clothes  were  more  beautiful,  but  if  one 
boy  liked  you  another  might.  I  might. 
Would  you  like  to  see  my  mother's  por- 
trait?" 


AMOS  JUDD  21 

Mrs.  Judd  said  she  would  like  very  much 
to  see  it,  and  he  began  fumbling  about  and 
seemed  to  be  tickling  himself  near  the  buckle 
of  his  belt.  But,  as  it  proved,  he  was  ascer- 
taining the  whereabouts  of  a  locket,  which 
he  finally  fished  up  by  means  of  a  gold  chain 
about  his  neck.  The  chain  was  of  such  a 
length  that  the  locket,  instead  of  reposing 
near  the  heart  of  the  wearer,  hung  a  little 
below  the  centre  of  the  stomach.  When  it 
finally  emerged  above  his  collar,  he  placed 
the  warm  miniature  in  her  hand,  saying : 

' '  That  is  my  mother." 

It  was  a  dark  face,  surmounted  by  a 
jewelled  head-dress  of  a  style  that  Mrs.  Judd 
had  never  seen,  even  in  pictures.  After 
looking  more  carefully  at  the  miniature  and 
then  up  into  the  eyes  that  were  watching 
hers,  she  found  the  same  square  forehead 
and  sensitive  mouth,  and  the  same  dark 
melancholy,  heavily  fringed  eyes,  by  far  the 
most  beautiful  she  had  ever  seen.  The  pict- 
ure in  her  hand  was  a  truthful  portrait  of 
himself.  As  she  looked  from  the  portrait 
into  the  face  before  her  she  felt  it  was  per- 
haps fortunate  this  mother  was  ignorant  of 
the  changes  that  already  had  turned  the 
current  of  his  life.  With  a  brown  hand  on 


22  AMOS  JUDD 

each  of  her  knees  he  was  looking  into  her 
eyes  with  the  anxious  gaze  of  a  hungry 
soul,  seeking  for  sympathy,  and  too  proud 
to  ask  it.  But  Mrs.  Judd  understood.  She 
laid  a  hand  upon  his  shoulder  with  an  ex- 
pression upon  her  honest  face  that  rendered 
words  unnecessary.  He  blinked  and  swal- 
lowed in  a  mighty  effort  to  suppress  what  he 
evidently  considered  an  undignified  and  com- 
promising sentiment.  But  in  vain.  Sink- 
ing upon  his  knees  he  buried  his  face  in  her 
lap  and  gave  way  to  the  most  vehement,  un- 
controllable grief.  The  small  frame  shook 
with  sobs,  while  her  apron  grew  wet  with 
tears.  He  took  his  sorrow  with  the  same 
passionate  recklessness  that  characterized  his 
anger  at  the  dinner- table.  Mrs.  Judd  rested 
her  hand  upon  the  short  black  hair  and  tried 
to  summon  words  of  solace  for  a  grief  that 
seemed  to  threaten  the  integrity  of  his  earthly 
body.  She  could  only  stroke  his  head  and 
tell  him  not  to  be  unhappy ;  that  all  would 
end  well ;  that  he  should  soon  return  home. 
In  the  midst  of  these  efforts  the  voice  of 
Mr.  Judd  came  around  the  corner  calling  out 
that  the  wagon  was  here.  The  boy  jumped 
to  his  feet  as  if  he  had  received  a  shock. 
Drawing  the  sleeve  of  his  jacket  across  his 


AMOS  JUDD  23 

tear-stained  face,  he  summoned  an  expression 
of  severity  and  indifference  that  under  other 
circumstances  would  have  forced  a  smile 
from  his  newly  acquired  friend.  The  soldier 
was  himself  again ;  the  warrior  was  on  parade. 
As  they  walked  together  around  the  house 
to  the  dining-room,  he  beside  her  with  a 
resolute  step  and  chin  in  the  air,  she  won- 
dered what  manner  of  training  could  have 
taught  him  at  the  age  of  seven  to  suppress 
all  boyish  emotions,  and  put  on  at  will  the 
dignity  of  a  Roman  Senator. 

The  General  and  the  Prince  were  awaiting 
them.  With  many  compliments  they  thanked 
the  host  and  hostess  for  their  hospitality, 
and  regretted  the  necessity  that  took  them 
away  in  such  unfortunate  haste ;  it  was  a 
flying  trip  and  their  absence  must  not  be 
lengthened  by  an  hour,  as  these  were  troub- 
lous times  in  their  part  of  India.  As  they 
moved  toward  the  wagon  Mrs.  Judd  held 
her  husband  back,  believing  there  might  be 
a  parting  at  which  strangers  would  not  be 
welcome.  But  the  parting,  like  all  else,  was 
dignified  and  ceremonious.  She  could  not 
see  the  boy's  face,  for  he  stood  with  his  back 
toward  her,  but  as  far  as  she  could  judge 
he  also  was  calm  and  self-possessed.  She 


24  AMOS  JUDD 

noticed,  however,  that  the  General  had  to 
swallow,  with  a  sudden  gulp,  a  large  portion 
of  what  appeared  to  be  a  carefully  construct- 
ed sentence. 

They  drove  in  silence  down  the  long 
avenue  beneath  the  maples,  and  the  driver, 
perhaps  to  put  them  at  their  ease,  said  some- 
thing about  getting  along  faster  in  this  light 
wagon  than  with  the  stage,  but  both  his  pas- 
sengers seemed  in  a  silent  mood  and  made 
no  answer.  As  they  turned  into  the  main 
road  the  General,  who  was  on  the  side  near- 
est the  house,  looked  back.  At  the  farther 
end  of  the  avenue  stood  the  boy  in  the  same 
position,  still  watching  them.  The  old  sol- 
dier brought  his  hand  to  his  hat  and  down 
again  in  a  military  salute  that  was  evidently 
familiar  to  the  little  person  at  the  farther 
end  of  the  driveway,  for  it  was  promptly  ac- 
knowledged, and  although  a  farewell  to  the 
last  ties  between  himself  and  his  country, 
was  returned  with  head  erect,  as  from  one 
veteran  to  another. 


II 


TWENTY  years  have  passed. 

The  corner  mansion  of  the  Van  Koovers  is 
ablaze  with  light.  Long  rows  of  carriages 
surmounted  by  sleepy  coachmen  extend  along 
Madison  Avenue  and  into  the  neighboring 
street.  The  temporary  awning  from  the  front 
door  to  the  curbstone  serves  only  to  shield  the 
coming  and  departing  guest  from  the  gaze  of 
heaven,  for  the  moon  and  stars  are  shining 
brightly,  as  if  they  also  would  like  to  enter. 
But  when  the  front  door  opens,  which  is 
frequent,  it  emits  a  blast  of  music,  taunting 
and  defiant,  reminding  the  outside  universe 
of  its  plebeian  origin. 

Inside  there  is  a  scene  of  festivity  and 
splendor,  of  dazzling  gayety,  of  youth  and 
mirth  and  decorous  joy.  The  opulence  of 
the  Van  Koovers  is  of  sanctifying  solidity, 
and  when  they  give  a  ball  they  do  it  in  a 
style  to  be  remembered.  The  house  itself, 
with  its  sumptuous  furniture,  its  magnificent 
ceilings  and  stately  dimensions  is  sufficiently 


26  AMOS  JUDD 

impressive  in  every -day  attire,  but  to-night 
it  reminds  you  of  the  Arabian  Tales.  The 
family  portraits,  the  gracious  dignity  of  the 
host  and  hostess,  the  bearing  of  the  ser- 
vants, all  speak  of  pedigree  and  hereditary 
honors. 

Roses  and  violets,  in  lavish  profusion,  fill 
every  corner,  are  festooned  around  doors 
and  windows,  even  along  the  walls  and  up 
the  stairs,  their  perfume  mingling  with  the 
music.  And  the  music,  dreamy  yet  volu- 
minous, sways  hither  and  thither  a  sea  of 
maidens  with  snowy  necks  and  shimmering 
jewels,  floating  gracefully  about  in  the  arms 
of  anxious  youths.  These  youths,  although 
unspeakably  happy,  wear  upon  their  faces, 
as  is  usual  upon  such  occasions,  an  expression 
of  corroding  care. 

As  a  waltz  came  to  an  end,  a  tall,  light- 
haired  girl  with  crimson  roses  in  her  dress, 
dropped  into  a  seat.  She  fanned  herself 
rapidly  as  if  to  drive  away  a  most  becom- 
ing color  that  had  taken  possession  of  her 
cheeks.  Her  breath  came  quickly,  the 
string  of  pearls  upon  her  neck  rising  and 
falling  as  if  sharing  in  the  general  joy. 
With  her  long  throat,  her  well- poised  head, 
and  a  certain  dignity  of  unconscious  pride 


AMOS  JUDD  27 

she  might  be  described  as  old-fashioned  from 
her  resemblance  to  a  favorite  type  in  the 
portraits  of  a  century  ago.  Perhaps  her 
prettiest  feature  was  the  low,  wide  forehead 
about  which  the  hair  seemed  to  advance  and 
recede  in  exceptionally  graceful  lines.  Her 
charm  to  those  who  know  her  but  super- 
ficially was  in  her  voice  and  manner,  in  the 
frankness  of  her  eyes,  and,  above  all  per- 
haps, in  that  all-conquering  charm,  a  total 
absence  of  self-consciousness.  But  whatever 
the  reason,  no  girl  in  the  room  received 
more  attention. 

Her  partner,  a  sculptor  with  a  bald  head 
and  a  reputation,  took  the  chair  beside  her. 
As  her  eyes  wandered  carelessly  about  the 
room  she  inquired,  in  an  indifferent  tone  : 
"  Who  is  that  swarthy  youth  talking  with 
Julia  Bancroft  ?  ' ' 

"I  don't  know.  He  looks  like  a  for- 
eigner." Then  he  added,  with  more  inter- 
est, "  But  isn't  he  a  beauty  !  " 

"  Yes,  his  features  are  good." 

"  He  is  an  Oriental  of  some  sort,  and 
doesn't  quite  harmonize  with  a  claw-ham- 
mer coat.  He  should  wear  an  emerald - 
green  nightcap  with  a  ruby  in  the  centre, 
about  the  size  of  a  hen's  egg,  a  yellow 


28  AMOS  JUDD 

dressing-gown  and  white  satin  trousers,  all 
copiously  sprinkled  with  diamonds." 

She  smiled.  "Yes,  and  he  might  be  in- 
teresting if  he  were  not  quite  so  handsome  ; 
but  here  he  comes  !  M  :- 

The  youth  in  question,  as  he  came  down 
the  room  and  passed  them,  seemed  to  be 
having  a  jolly  time  with  his  companion  and 
he  failed  to  notice  the  two  people  who 
were  discussing  him.  It  was  a  boyish  face 
notwithstanding  the  regular  features  and 
square  jaw,  and  at  the  present  moment  it 
wore  a  smile  that  betrayed  the  most  intense 
amusement.  When  he  was  well  out  of  hear- 
ing, the  sculptor  exclaimed:  "He  is  the 
most  artistic  thing  I  ever  saw !  The  lines 
of  his  eyes  and  nose  are  superb  !  And  what 
a  chin  !  I  should  like  to  own  him  !  " 

"  You  couldn't  eat  him." 

"No,  but  I  could  put  him  on  exhibition 
at  five  dollars  a  ticket.  Every  girl  in  New 
York  would  be  there  ;  you  among  them." 

Miss  Cabot  appeared  to  consider.  "  I 
am  not  so  sure.  He  probably  is  much  less 
interesting  than  he  looks.  Handsome  males 
over  three  years  of  age  are  the  deadliest 
bores  in  life ;  sculptors  of  course  excepted.  * ' 

"  It  does  seem  to  be  a  kind  of  prosperity 


AMOS  JUDD  29 

the  human  male  is  unable  to  support  with- 
out impairment.''  Then  addressing  a  blase 
young  man  lounging  wearily  by : 

"  Horace,  do  you  know  who  that  is  talk- 
ing with  Miss  Bancroft  ?  " 

Horace,  a  round-shouldered  blond  whose 
high  collar  seemed  to  force  his  chin,  not 
upward,  but  outward  horizontally,  fingered 
the  ends  of  his  mustache  and  asked  : 

"  You  mean  that  pigeon-toed  fellow  with 
the  dark  face  ?  ' ' 

Miss  Cabot  could  not  help  laughing. 
"  There's  a  summing  up  of  your  beauty," 
she  exclaimed,  turning  to  the  sculptor. 

He  smiled  as  he  answered  :  "  It  is  evident 
you  are  an  admirer.  But  do  you  know  who 
he  is?" 

"Yes,  I  know  him." 

"Well,  what  is  it  ?  A  Hindu  prince,  a 
Persian  poet,  or  a  simple  corsair  of  the 
Adriatic  ?  ' ' 

"  He  is  a  Connecticut  farmer." 

"  Never!  " 

"  And  his  name  is  Judd — Amos  Judd." 

"  Oh,  dear  !  "  sighed  Miss  Cabot.  "  What 
a  come  down  !  We  hoped  he  was  something 
more  unusual  than  that. ' ' 

"  Well,  he  is  more  unusual  than  that.    He 


30  AMOS  JUDD 

is  a  paralyzer  of  the  female  heart.  I  knew 
him  in  college.  At  dances  and  parties  we 
were  generally  sure  to  find  him  tucked  away 
on  the  stairs  or  out  on  a  porch  with  the 
prettiest  girl  of  the  ball,  and  he  looked  so 
much  like  an  Oriental  prince  we  used  to  call 
him  the  Bellehugger  of  Spoonmore. ' ' 

"  Disgusting  !  " 

"  But  that  is  a  trifling  and  unimportant 
detail  of  his  character,  Miss  Cabot,  and 
conveys  a  cold  impression  of  Mr.  Judd's  ex- 
periences. Don  Giovanni  was  a  puritanical 
prig  in  comparison.  Then  at  college  he 
had  the  bad  taste  to  murder  a  classmate. ' ' 

Miss  Cabot  looked  up  in  horror. 

"  But  then  he  had  his  virtues.  He  could 
drink  more  without  showing  it  than  any  fel- 
low in  college,  and  he  was  the  richest  man 
in  his  class." 

"  Oh,  come  now,  Horace,"  said  the 
sculptor,  "  you  are  evidently  a  good  friend 
of  his,  but  your  desire  to  do  him  a  good 
turn  may  be  carrying  you  beyond  the  limits 
of — how  shall  I  say  it  ?  " 

"  You  mean  that  I  am  lying." 

"  Well,  that  is  the  rough  idea." 

Horace  smiled.  "  No,  I  am  not  lying. 
It  is  all  true,"  and  he  passed  wearily  on. 


AMOS  JUDD  31 

It  was  not  many  minutes  before  Molly 
Cabot  was  again  moving  over  the  floor,  this 
time  with  the  son  of  the  house.  Stephen 
Van  Koover  was  one  of  those  unfortunates 
whose  mental  outfit  qualified  him  for  some- 
thing better  than  the  career  of  clothes  and 
conversation  to  which  he  was  doomed  by  the 
family  wealth. 

"  This  recalls  old  times.  Isn't  it  three  or 
four  years  since  we  have  danced  together  ?  ' ' 
he  asked.  "Or  is  it  three  or  four  hun- 
dred?" 

"  Thank  you  !  I  am  glad  you  realize 
what  you  have  missed." 

"  You  do  dance  like  an  angel,  Miss  Molly, 
and  it's  a  sin  to  squander  such  talent  on 
me.  I  wish  you  would  try  it.with  Judd; 
my  sisters  say  his  dancing  is  a  revelation." 

"  Judd,  the  murderer  ?  " 

"  Who  told  you  that?  " 

"  Horace  Bennett." 

"  I  might  have  guessed  it.  Truth  and 
Horace  were  never  chums.  Judd  bears  the 
same  relation  to  Horace  as  sunshine  to  a 
damp  cellar." 

As  the  music  ceased  they  strolled  to  a  lit- 
tle divan  at  the  end  of  the  room. 

"  He  did  kill  a  man,  a  classmate,  but  he 


32  AMOS  JUDD 

had  the  sympathies  of  his  entire  class.  It 
was  partly  an  accident,  anyway.'1 

1  i  I  am  glad  for  his  sake,  as  there  seems  to 
be  a  prejudice  against  murder. ' ' 

"This  was  a  little  of  both.  We  were 
having  a  supper,  about  twenty  of  us,  just 
before  class-day.  After  the  supper,  when 
we  were  all  a  trifle  hilarious,  Slade  came  up 
behind  Judd  and  poured  some  wine  down 
his  neck.  Judd  faced  about ;  then  Slade 
made  a  mock  apology,  and  added  an  insult- 
ing speech.  He  was  a  master  in  that  sort 
of  thing,  and  while  doing  it  he  emptied  his 
wineglass  into  Judd's  face.  Now  Judd  is 
overweighted  with  a  peculiar  kind  of  Ori- 
ental pride,  and  also  with  an  unfortunate 
temper  ;  not  a  bad  temper,  but  a  sudden, 
unreliable,  cyclonic  affair,  that  carries  the 
owner  with  it,  generally  faster  than  is  neces- 
sary, and  sometimes  a  great  deal  farther. 
Now  Slade  knew  all  this,  and  as  he  was  an 
all  -  around  athlete  and  the  heavier  man, 
there  was  no  doubt  in  our  minds  that  he 
meant  Judd  should  strike  out,  and  then  he 
would  have  some  fun  with  him. 

"  Well,  Judd  grew  as  black  as  a  thunder- 
cloud, but  he  kept  his  temper.  His  hand 
shook  as  he  wiped  his  face  with  his  handker- 


AMOS  JUDD  33 

chief  and  quietly  turned  his  back  upon  him. 
Then  it  was  that  the  other  man  made  the 
crowning  error  of  his  life.  He  was  just 
enough  of  a  bully  to  misunderstand  Judd's 
decent  behavior,  and  his  contempt  was  so 
great  for  one  who  could  accept  such  an  in- 
dignity that  he  kicked  him.  Judd  wheeled 
about,  seized  him  by  the  throat  and  banged 
his  head  against  the  wall  with  a  force  and  fury 
that  sobered  every  fellow  in  the  room.  Close 
beside  them  was  an  open  window  reaching 
to  the  floor,  with  a  low  iron  railing  outside. 
Judd,  half  lifting  him  from  the  floor,  sent 
him  flying  through  this  window,  and  over 
the  balcony." 

"  Gracious  !  Was  he  dead  from  the  blows 
on  his  head  ?  ' ' 

"  No,  but  a  blow  awaited  him  outside  that 
would  have  finished  an  ox.  This  window 
was  about  thirteen  feet  from  the  ground,  and 
below  it  stood  a  granite  hitching  post. 
When  Slade  came  down  like  a  diver  from  a 
boat  and  struck  head  foremost  against  the 
top  of  this  post  something  was  sure  to  suf- 
fer, and  the  granite  post  is  there  to-day,  with 
no  signs  of  injury." 

' '  How  can  you  speak  of  it  in  such  a  tone  ! ' ' 

"  Well,  I  am  afraid  none  of  us  had  a  deep 
3 


34  AMOS  JUDD 

affection  for  the  victim.  And  then  Judd  was 
so  refreshingly  honest !  He  said  he  was 
glad  Slade  was  dead ;  that  the  world  would 
be  better  if  all  such  men  were  out  of  it,  and 
refused  to  go  to  the  funeral  or  to  wear  the 
usual  class  mourning." 

"  Which  was  in  disgustingly  bad  taste  !  " 

li  Possibly,  but  uncommonly  honest.  And 
then  it  is  hardly  fair  to  judge  him  by  our 
standards.  He  is  built  of  foreign  material, 
and  he  had  received  something  that  it  was 
simply  not  in  his  nature  to  forgive." 

Their  voices  were  drowned  in  the  music 
that  again  filled  the  room.  The  dance  over, 
they  sauntered  out  into  the  large  hall,  where 
Flemish  and  Italian  tapestries  formed  an 
opulent  harmony  with  Van  Koover  portraits. 
In  the  air  of  this  apartment  one  breathed  the 
ancestral  repose  that  speaks  of  princely  ori- 
gin. It  was  not  intended,  however,  that  this 
atmosphere  should  recall  the  founder  of  the 
house  who,  but  four  generations  ago,  was 
peddling  knick-knacks  along  the  Bowery. 

As  Miss  Cabot  was  uncomfortably  warm 
and  suggested  a  cooler  air  he  led  her  to  the 
farther  end  of  the  long  hall,  beyond  the 
stairs,  and  halted  at  the  entrance  of  a  con- 
servatory. 


AMOS  JUDD  35 

"Delicious!"  and  she  inhaled  a  long 
breath  of  the  fresh,  moist  air. 

' '  Wait  for  me  just  a  moment,  and  I  will 
bring  you  the  glass  of  water,"  and  he  van- 
ished. 

An  inviting  obscurity  pervaded  this  con- 
servatory, which,  like  the  rest  of  the  Van 
Koover  mansion,  was  spacious  and  impres- 
sive. At  the  farther  end,  the  gloom  was 
picturesquely  broken  by  rays  of  moonlight 
slanting  through  the  lofty  windows.  The 
only  living  occupants  seemed  to  be  one  or 
two  pairs  of  invisible  lovers,  whose  voices 
were  faintly  audible  above  the  splashing  of 
the  little  fountain  in  the  centre.  This  busy 
fountain  formed  a  discreet  accompaniment  to 
the  flirtations  in  the  surrounding  shrubbery. 
Stepping  to  the  side  of  the  basin,  she  stood 
for  a  moment  looking  down  into  its  diminu- 
tive depths.  The  falling  water  and  the  dis- 
tant music  formed  a  soothing  melody,  and  a 
welcome  restfulness  stole  gently  upon  her 
senses  as  she  inhaled,  with  the  fragrance  of 
the  tropics,  the  peace  and  poetry  of  a  sum- 
mer night.  She  stood  for  a  moment  yield- 
ing to  a  gentle  enchantment  \  it  seemed  a 
different  world,  apart  from  the  great  city  in 
which  she  lived,  a  world  of  flowers,  and  perr 


3<3  AMOS  JUDD 

fumes,  of  fountains  and  perpetual  music ;  of 
moonlight  and  of  whispering  lovers. 

At  last,  as  if  waking  from  a  dream,  the 
girl  raised  her  head  and  looked  toward  the 
windows  beyond,  where  a  flood  of  moon- 
light illumined  deep  masses  of  exotic  foliage, 
repeating  them  in  fantastic  shadows  on  the 
marble  floor.  Walking  slowly  from  the 
fountain,  she  lingered  between  the  over- 
hanging palms,  then  stepped  into  the  moon- 
beams, a  radiant  figure  with  her  bare  neck 
and  arms  and  glistening  jewels  in  this  full 
white  light,  against  the  gloom  of  the  con- 
servatory. The  diamonds  in  the  crescent 
above  her  forehead  flashed  as  if  quivering 
into  life  as  she  stopped  and  looked  up  at  the 
planet. 

A  figure  close  beside  her,  that  had  formed 
part  of  the  surrounding  shadow,  started  back 
with  a  suddenness  that  caused  her,  also,  to 
retreat  a  step  and  press  a  hand  to  her  heart. 
It  was  more  from  nervousness  than  fear,  as  she 
was  simply  startled.  She  at  once  recovered 
herself,  ashamed  at  being  taken  off  her  guard, 
but  a  glance  at  the  man  beside  her,  whose 
face  was  now  also  in  the  light,  filled  her  with 
a  fresh  surprise.  It  was  the  oriental  beauty  ; 
the  murderer,  Judd,  and  the  intensity  of  his 


AMOS  JUDD  37 

expression  almost  frightened  her.  His  eyes 
were  fixed  upon  her  own  in  speechless  won- 
der, and  as  they  moved  to  the  crescent  in 
her  hair,  then  back  again  to  her  face,  they 
showed  both  terror  and  astonishment.  Yet 
it  seemed  a  look  of  recognition,  for  he  bent 
eagerly  forward,  as  if  to  make  sure  he  were 
not  mistaken. 

It  was  all  in  an  instant.  Then,  with  a 
step  backward  and  an  inclination  of  the 
head,  he  stammered  : 

"  I  beg  your  pardon.  I — I  was  startled. 
Pray  forgive  me. " 

He  gave  an  arm  to  his  companion,  a 
pretty  girl  in  pink  who,  standing  behind 
him,  had  missed  the  details  of  the  little 
scene,  and  they  walked  away  among  the 
plants  and  out  of  the  conservatory. 

Later  in  the  evening,  as  Miss  Cabot  stood 
near  the  door  of  the  ball-room,  the  girl  with 
whom  she  was  speaking  introduced  a  friend, 
and  she  found  herself  again  in  the  presence 
of  the  Connecticut  farmer,  the  young  man  of 
the  moonlight.  But  this  time  he  wore  a  very 
different  expression  from  that  of  the  conser- 
vatory. There  was  a  pleasant  smile  on  the 
dark  and  somewhat  boyish  face  as  he  apolo- 
gized for  the  scene  among  the  plants.  "  I 


38  AMOS  JUDD 

am  sorry  if  it  annoyed  you,  but  I  was 
startled  by  an  unexpected  resemblance. ' ' 

She  looked  into  his  eyes  as  he  spoke,  and 
understood  why  the  sculptor  should  have 
been  enthusiastic  over  such  a  face.  It  was 
of  an  unfamiliar  type,  and  bore  a  curious  re- 
semblance to  those  she  had  attributed  as  a 
child  to  the  heroes  of  her  imagination.  The 
eyes  were  long,  dark,  and  seemed  capable 
of  any  quantity  of  expression,  either  good 
or  bad.  Miss  Cabot  was  uncertain  as  to 
whether  they  pleased  her.  At  present  they 
looked  somewhat  anxiously  into  her  own 
with  a  touch  of  misgiving.  Nevertheless, 
she  felt  that  he  was  telling  her  only  a  por- 
tion of  the  truth. 

"  If  it  is  my  misfortune  to  startle  un- 
suspecting guests  when  I  come  upon  them 
without  notice,  it  is  for  me  to  apologize. 
No,"  then  continuing  hastily,  as  he  began  a 
protestation:  "  You  needn't  explain!  Do 
not  trouble  yourself  to  tell  me  that  only  the 
most  disturbing  types  of  beauty  cause  you 
just  that  kind  of  a  shock." 

"  But  why  not,  if  it  is  the  truth  ?  Besides, 
as  you  stepped  out  into  the  moonlight  you 
were  a  blinding  apparition,  all  in  white, 
against  the  darkness  behind.  I  have  no 


AMOS  JUDD  39 

doubt  the  moon  herself  was  a  little  star- 
tled." 

< i  You  certainly  were  less  happy  in  con- 
cealing your  agitation  than  the — other  vic- 
tim." 

Although  his  manner  was  deferential  and 
gave  indications  of  a  positive  but  discreetly 
repressed  admiration,  she  felt  ill  at  ease  with 
him.  It  was  impossible  to  forget  his  repul- 
sive title,  and  turning  partly  away  she  looked 
over  the  room,  and  answered : 

"  Since  you  are  completely  recovered  and 
my  apology  is  accepted,  I  suppose  there  is 
nothing  more  to  be  done."  x 

As  the  words  were  uttered  the  opening 
strains  of  a  waltz  came  floating  across  the 
hall,  and  he  begged  that  she  give  him  a 
dance  in  token  of  absolution.  It  was  easier 
to  grant  it  than  to  refuse,  and  in  another 
moment  they  were  gliding  over  the  floor. 
As  they  moved  away  she  experienced  a  new 
sensation.  This  partner,  while  adapting 
himself  to  her  own  movements,  carried  her 
with  a  gentle  force  that  relieved  her  of  all 
volition.  While,  in  effect,  borne  up  and 
along  by  the  music,  she  was  governed  by  a 
pressure  that  was  hardly  perceptible ;  yet,  at 
a  critical  instant,  when  a  reckless  dancer 


40  AMOS  JUDD 

came  plunging  toward  them,  she  felt  her- 
self swung  lightly  from  his  path,  to  re- 
lapse at  once  into  a  tranquil  security  and 
float  peacefully  away.  This  floating  with 
the  music  was  so  easy,  so  very  drowsy  and 
relaxing,  that  her  consciousness  almost  drift- 
ed with  the  rhythm  of  the  waltz.  Once, 
as  her  eyes  were  uplifted  to  the  gorgeous 
frieze,  the  white-winged  Cupids  that  a  mo- 
ment before  were  lolling  idly  against  the 
blue  and  gold  background  seemed  now  to 
be  keeping  time  with  the  music,  swaying 
and  dancing  in  their  irresponsible  naked- 
ness. 

Miss  Cabot  was  surprised  when  the  music 
ceased  and  at  once  regretted  having  danced 
such  a  length  of  time  with  a  stranger  of  un- 
savory reputation.  As  they  left  the  ball-room 
and  entered  the  ancestral  hall  she  was 
flushed  and  out  of  breath,  endeavoring  with 
one  hand  to  replace  a  lock  of  hair  that  had 
fallen  about  her  neck. 

"  It's  a  shame,"  he  muttered. 
1  '  What  ?     That  we  danced  so  long  ?  ' ' 
"  Oh,  no  !     That  it  should  end  !  " 
They  looked   about   for  a  resting-place, 
but  all  were  occupied.      Girls  in  pink,   in 
white,  in  pale  blue,   in  delicate  yellow,  in 


AMOS  JUDD  41 

every  color  that  was  becoming  to  their  indi- 
vidual beauty,  or  to  its  absence,  were  clus- 
tered about  the  great  hall,  filling  every  seat. 
Around  them,  like  bees  in  a  flower  garden, 
hovered  men  in  black. 

"  There  is  our  chance,"  he  said,  pointing 
to  the  stairs.  Upon  the  first  landing,  but 
three  steps  from  the  floor,  there  was  a  semi- 
circular recess  along  whose  wall  ran  a  cush- 
ioned seat.  At  the  entrance,  upon  a  pedes- 
tal of  Sienna  marble,  sat  a  Cupid  with  a 
finger  upon  his  lips  ;  a  bit  of  ancient  sculpt- 
ure from  a  Roman  temple.  Behind  him, 
within,  an  inviting  gloom  suggested  repose 
and  silence.  As  they  stepped  upon  the  tiger- 
skin  that  nearly  covered  the  landing,  Miss 
Cabot  was  accosted  by  a  man  whose  thought- 
ful face  brightened  up  at  the  meeting.  When 
he  glanced  at  her  companion  there  was  a 
similar  welcome,  and  they  called  each  other 
John  and  Amos,  and  appeared  to  be  on  in- 
timate terms.  After  a  short  conversation 
he  left  them  and  descended  into  the  hall. 
She  was  puzzled  at  the  friendship  of  these 
two  men,  and  wondered  what  there  could 
possibly  be  in  common  between  a  promising 
clergyman  of  exceptional  purity  of  character 
and  this  dissolute,  hot  -  headed  Judd.  As 


42  AMOS  JUDD 

they  seated  themselves  in  the  alcove,  she 
said,  in  a  tone  of  surprise  : 

"  So  you  and  John  Harding  are  friends  !  " 

He  smiled.  "Yes;  and  I  lament  your 
astonishment." 

She  blushed  at  her  stupid  betrayal  of  the 
thought,  while  he  made  no  effort  to  conceal 
his  amusement. 

"  It  may  be  an  unkind  thing  to  say  of 
him,  but  we  have  been  good  friends  for  sev- 
eral years." 

Laying  her  fan  in  her  lap,  she  devoted 
both  hands  to  the  wandering  lock.  "  Is 
that  what  drove  him  to  the  church  ?  " 

"  No.  For  that  I  am  not  responsible, 
thank  Heaven  !  " 

"Why  thank  Heaven?  Is  there  any 
harm  in  being  a  clergyman?  " 

"It  depends  on  the  man.  In  this  case 
it  certainly  seems  a  waste  of  good  mate- 
rial." 

Now,  it  happened  that  Molly  Cabot's  re- 
ligious convictions  were  deeply  rooted,  and 
she  felt  a  thrill  of  indignation  at  this  slur 
upon  a  sacred  calling.  Of  course,  it  was 
not  surprising  that  a  spoiled  youth  with  a 
murderous  temper  should  prove  an  atheist 
and  a  scoffer,  but  she  was  irritated,  and  in- 


AMOS  JUDD  43 

stinctively  took  the  field  as  the  champion  of 
a  righteous  cause. 

"  Then  you  consider  it  a  waste  of  good 
material  for  an  honest  man  to  serve  the 
church?" 

Her  energy  surprised  him,  but  he  an- 
swered, pleasantly:  "I  do  not  say  that. 
No  one  is  too  good  for  any  honest  work.  I 
only  say  that  a  man  of  John  Harding's  orig- 
inality and  courage  puts  himself  in  a  false 
position." 

"  I  do  not  see  how,"  and  her  eyes  were 
fixed  upon  his  own  in  open  hostility.  He 
still  smiled  serenely  and  met  her  glance  with 
provoking  calmness. 

"  Well,  at  present  he  is  young  and  full  of 
enthusiasm,  believing  everything,  and  more 
besides ;  but  he  is  only  twenty-seven  now 
and  will  do  a  heap  of  thinking  before  he  is 
forty.  The  pathetic  part  of  it  is  that  he 
binds  himself  to  a  creed,  and  the  man  who 
can  think  for  thirteen  years  on  any  subject 
without  modifying  his  faith  ought  to  be  in  a 
museum." 

"  Not  if  it  is  the  true  faith." 

"  If  it  is  the  true  faith,  there  is  danger  in 
thinking,  as  he  may  think  away  from  it,  so 
why  waste  a  brain  like  Harding's?  " 


44  AMOS  JUDD 

In  spite  of  a  certain  deference  and  gen- 
tleness of  tone  with  which  he  uttered  these 
positive  sentiments  there  was  evident  enjoy- 
ment in  the  shock  they  created.  While  he 
was  speaking  she  noticed  in  the  centre  of 
his  forehead  a  faint  scar  about  the  size  of 
a  ten -cent  piece.  It  seemed  an  evanescent 
mark,  only  visible  when  he  turned  his  face 
at  certain  angles  with  the  light,  and  suggest- 
ed the  thought  that  if  all  young  men  of  such 
opinions  were  marked  in  a  similar  manner 
it  might  serve  as  a  wholesome  warning  to 
unbelievers. 

She  looked  down  at  her  fan  a  moment, 
then  answered,  very  quietly  : 

"  So  all  clergymen  over  forty  are  either 
hypocrites  or  fools.  It  must  be  very  satis- 
fying to  entertain  a  thorough  contempt  for 
so  large  a  profession." 

"Oh,  don't  say  contempt.  Rather  an 
excess  of  sympathy  for  the  unfortunate. ' ' 

At  that  moment  Horace  Bennett,  in  as- 
cending the  stairs,  stopped  for  an  instant 
upon  the  landing  and  stood  facing  them. 
His  eyes  rested  upon  herself  and  Mr.  Judd, 
then  she  saw  him  glance  at  the  marble  Cupid 
who,  with  his  finger  to  his  lips,  seemed  act- 
ing as  a  sentinel  for  whatever  lovers  were 


AMOS  JUDD  45 

within.  Then  he  pulled  the  ends  of  his 
miserable  little  mustache,  and  with  a  half- 
suppressed  smile,  muttered  something  to  his 
companion  and  they  passed  up  the  stairs. 
The  hot  blood  flew  to  her  cheeks  as  she  re- 
called what  he  had  said  earlier  in  the  even- 
ing of  this  man  beside  her:  "We  were 
sure  to  find  him  tucked  away  on  the  stairs 
or  out  on  the  porch  with  a  girl.  So  we 
called  him  the  Bellehugger  of  Spoonmore. ' ' 

Never  in  her  life  had  she  felt  so  degrad- 
ed, so  cheapened  in  her  own  esteem.  Hot, 
cold,  with  burning  cheeks,  and  tears  of  mor- 
tification in  her  eyes  she  rose  from  her  seat, 
pressing  a  handkerchief  against  her  lips, 
and  stepped  swiftly  out  upon  the  landing 
and  down  into  the  hall.  Mr.  Judd  followed 
and  inquired  anxiously  if  she  were  ill;  could 
he  do  anything?  His  solicitude,  which 
was  genuine,  caused  her  to  realize  how  ex- 
traordinary her  behavior  must  appear  to 
him.  The  close  air  in  the  alcove,  she  an- 
swered coldly,  must  have  affected  her.  It 
was  only  a  little  dizziness. 

To  her  great  relief  a  young  man  came 
hurrying  up,  and  exclaimed  : 

6 '  I  have  been  looking  everywhere  for  you, 
Miss  Cabot  !  The  cotillion  is  on  !  " 


46  AMOS  JUDD 

A  formal  nod  to  Mr.  Judd,  and  she  moved 
away  with  an  unuttered  prayer  that  their 
paths  in  future  might  be  far  apart.  Her 
wish  was  granted,  at  least  for  that  night,  for 
she  saw  him  no  more  at  the  Van  Koovers. 

When  she  reached  home  and  entered  her 
own  chamber,  the  moonlight  was  streaming 
into  the  room,  and  before  turning  up  the 
lights  she  had  the  curiosity  to  stand  near 
the  window  with  a  hand-glass  and  study 
her  own  reflection.  Only  the  usual  face 
was  there,  and  as  usual,  the  nose  was  too 
short,  the  chin  too  long,  and  all  the  other 
defects  were  present ;  but  even  in  the 
moonlight  they  seemed  hardly  sufficient  to 
frighten  a  strong  young  man. 


Ill 

A  FIRST  interview  with  the  Hon.  J.  W. 
Cabot,  senior  member  of  the  firm  of  Cabot, 
Hollingsworth  &  Perry,  generally  resulted 
in  a  belief  that  this  distinguished  lawyer  was 
a  severe,  unsympathetic  man  whose  dignity, 
under  ordinary  pressure,  was  not  likely  to 
abate.  An  abundant  crop  of  short  gray 
hair  covered  a  square,  well -shaped  head  ;  a 
head  that  seemed  hard  and  strong.  His 
forehead,  his  jaw,  and  his  shoulders  were 
also  square,  and  they  also  seemed  hard  and 
strong. 

His  manner  was  cold,  his  voice  firm  and 
even,  and  he  was  never  ruffled.  The  cool 
gray  eyes  rested  calmly  upon  you  as  if 
screening,  out  of  consideration  for  your  own 
fallacious  knowledge,  the  profundity  of  wis- 
dom that  reposed  behind  them.  His  mem- 
ory seemed  infallible.  The  extent  and  ac- 
curacy of  his  legal  knowledge  was  a  perpetual 
surprise,  even  to  his  partners.  For  simplify- 
ing complex  entanglements  his  clearness  and 


48  AMOS  JUDD 

rapidity  amounted  to  a  genius.  His  fees 
were  colossal.  In  short,  he  seemed  just 
the  man  who  would  never  write  such  a  note 
as  this  : 

TOWHEAD  :  I  shall  bring  an  old  friend  to  din- 
ner to-night. 

Don't  give  us  rubber  olives  or  shad  of  last  year's 
vintage.  He  is  not  a  bric-a-brac  shop. 

JIMSEY. 

This  document  was  sent  to  his  daughter, 
who  since  her  mother's  death,  three  years 
ago,  had  managed  the  household.  When  a 
child  of  five  she  overheard  a  friend  address 
him  frequently  as  Jim,  whereupon  she  ad- 
justed a  final  syllable  to  render  it  less  formal, 
and  ever  after  continued  to  use  it. 

It  was  an  afternoon  in  March  that  this 
note  arrived,  nearly  four  months  after  the 
ball  at  the  Van  Koovers's,  and  when,  an 
hour  or  two  later,  her  father  presented  his 
old  friend,  Mr.  Samuel  Fettiplace,  she  was 
struck  by  his  enormous  frame  and  by  the 
extraordinary  color  of  his  face.  This  color, 
a  blazing,  resplendent  red,  not  only  occu- 
pied his  nose  and  cheeks,  but  extended,  in 
quieter  tones,  over  his  forehead  and  neck, 
even  to  the  bald  spot  upon  the  top  of  his 


AMOS  JUDD  49 

head.  It  had  every  appearance  of  being 
that  expensive  decoration  that  can  only  be 
procured  by  a  prolonged  and  conscientious 
indulgence  in  the  choicest  Burgundies. 

His  large,  round,  light-blue  eyes  were  all 
the  bluer  from  their  crimson  setting.  A 
more  honest  pair  she  had  never  seen.  These, 
with  his  silver  hair  and  benevolent  forehead, 
gave  the  impression  of  a  pleasantly  intemper- 
ate bishop.  Molly  Cabot  well  knew  that 
her  father,  and  especially  her  mother,  could 
never  have  achieved  a  warm  and  lasting 
friendship  for  one  whose  habits  were  honestly 
represented  by  such  compromising  colors. 

With  old-fashioned  courtesy  he  gave  her 
his  arm  into  the  dining-room,  and  as  they 
seated  themselves  at  table  he  said:  "You 
look  like  your  mother,  Miss  Molly,  and  I 
am  glad  of  it ;  the  same  forehead  and  eyes, 
and  the  same  kind  expression.  I  was  afraid 
when  I  saw  you  last  you  were  going  to  look 
like  your  father.  He  isn't  so  bad  looking, 
considering  the  life  he  has  led,  but  it  would 
be  a  calamitous  thing  for  a  well-meaning 
girl  to  resemble  any  lawyer." 

She  laughed  :  ' '  But  papa  is  not  as  bad  as 
he  looks,  you  know. ' ' 

"Yes,  he  is;  I  have  known  him  longer 
4 


50  AMOS  JUDD 

than  you  have.  But  there  seem  to  be  hon- 
ors in  dishonor.  During  these  years  that  I 
have  been  trotting  about  the  globe  he  has 
been  climbing  higher  and  higher,  until  now 
his  legs  are  dangling  from  the  topmost  round. 
Why,  I  understand  that  none  but  the  solid- 
est  billionaires  and  the  fattest  monopolies 
presume  to  retain  him." 

"  I  am  afraid  someone  took  you  for  a 
hayseed,  Sam,  and  has  been  stuffing  you." 

"No,  they  have  not!"  exclaimed  the 
daughter.  "  Everybody  says  he  is  the  best 
lawyer  in  New  York.  He  has  refused  to  be 
a  judge  several  times  !  " 

"  Oh,  come,  Molly  !  Don't  make  a  fool 
of  your  old  father  !  ' ' 

"  Go  ahead,  Miss  Molly,"  cried  Mr.  Fet- 
tiplace.  "Don't  mind  him!  I  know  you 
are  right.  But  I  suppose  he  pays  the  cus- 
tomary penalty  for  his  greatness  ;  slaves  day 
and  night,  both  summer  and  winter,  eh?  " 

"  Yes,  he  does,  and  if  you  have  any  influ- 
ence with  him,  Mr.  Fettiplace,  I  wish  you 
would  bring  it  to  bear." 

"  I  will.    He  shall  do  just  as  you  decide. ' ' 

"Now,  Molly,"  said  Mr.  Cabot,  "be 
just.  Have  I  not  promised  to  take  a  three 
months'  vacation  this  summer  ?  ' ' 


AMOS  JUDD  51 

' '  Where  do  you  spend  the  summer  ?  ' ' 
asked  Mr.  Fettiplace. 

"I  don't  know  yet.  We  gave  up  our 
place  at  the  shore  two  years  ago.  The  salt 
air  does  not  agree  with  me  any  too  well ;  and 
neither  Molly  nor  I  care  for  it  particularly." 

There  was  a  pause,  and  the  guest  felt  that 
the  wife's  death  might  have  saddened  the 
pleasant  memories  in  the  house  by  the  sea. 
As  if  struck  with  an  idea,  he  laid  down  his 
fork  and  exclaimed : 

"Why  not  come  to  Daleford?  There  is 
a  house  all  furnished  and  ready  for  you ! 
My  daughter  and  her  husband  are  going 
abroad,  and  you  could  have  it  until  Novem- 
ber if  you  wished. ' ' 

"Where  is  that,  Sam?" 

"Well,"  said  Mr.  Fettiplace,  closing  his 
eyes  in  a  profound  calculation,  "  I  am  weak 
at  figures,  but  on  the  map  it  is  north  of 
Hartford  and  about  a  quarter  of  an  inch 
below  the  Massachusetts  border." 

Mr.  Cabot  laughed.  "I  remember  you 
were  always  weak  at  figures.  What  is  it,  a 
fashionable  resort  ?  " 

' '  Not  at  all.  If  that  is  what  you  are  after, 
don't  think  of  it." 

"But  it  is  not  what  we  are  after,"  said 


52  AMOS  JUDD 

Molly.  ' '  We  want  a  quiet  place  to  rest  and 
read  in." 

"  With  just  enough  walking  and  driving/' 
put  in  the  father,  "  to  induce  us  to  eat  and 
sleep  a  little  more  than  is  necessary." 

"Then  Daleford  is  your  place,"  and  the 
huge  guest,  with  his  head  to  one  side,  rolled 
his  light-blue  eyes  toward  Molly. 

"  Do  tell  us  about  it,"  she  demanded. 

"  Well,  in  the  first  place  Daleford  itself  is 
a  forgotten  little  village,  where  nothing  was 
ever  known  to  happen.  Of  course  births,  mar- 
riages, and  deaths  have  occurred  there,  but 
even  those  things  have  always  been  more  un- 
eventful than  anywhere  else.  Nothing  can 
take  place  without  the  whole  village  knowing 
it,  and  knowing  it  at  once,  yet  the  inhabi- 
tants are  always  asleep.  No  one  is  ever  in 
sight.  If  you  should  lock  yourself  in  your 
own  room,  pull  down  the  curtains  and  sneeze, 
say  your  prayers  or  change  a  garment  at  an 
unaccustomed  hour,  all  Daleford  would  be 
commenting  on  it  before  you  could  unlock 
the  door  and  get  downstairs  again." 

"That  sounds  inviting,"  said  Mr.  Cabot. 
"  There  is  nothing  like  privacy." 

"  I  only  tell  you  this  so  there  shall  be  no 
deception.  But  all  that  does  not  really  con- 


AMOS  JUDD  53 

cern  you,  as  our  house  is  a  mile  from  the 
village. ' '  Then  he  went  on  to  describe  its 
real  advantages  :  the  pure  air,  the  hills,  the 
beautiful  scenery,  the  restful  country  life, 
and  when  he  had  finished  his  hearers  were 
much  interested  and  thought  seriously  of  go- 
ing to  see  it. 

"  I  notice,  Sam,  that  you  make  no  men- 
tion of  the  malaria,  rheumatism,  or  organ- 
ized bands  of  mosquitoes,  drunk  with  your 
own  blood,  who  haul  you  from  your  bed 
at  dead  of  night.  Or  do  you  take  it  for 
granted  we  should  be  disappointed  without 
those  things  ?  ' ' 

"  No,  sir.  I  take  it  for  granted  that  every 
New  Yorker  brings  those  things  with  him," 
and  again  a  large  china-blue  eye  was  obscured 
by  a  laborious  wink  as  its  mate  beamed  tri- 
umphantly upon  the  daughter. 

There  were  further  questions  regarding  the 
house,  the  means  of  getting  there,  and  finally 
Molly  asked  if  there  were  any  neighbors. 

"  Only  one.  The  others  are  half  a  mile 
away. ' ' 

"  And  who  is  that  one  ?  "  she  asked. 

"That  one  is  Judd,  and  he  is  an  ideal 
neighbor." 

"  Is  he  a  farmer?" 


54  AMOS  JUDD 

"  Yes,  in  a  way.  He  raises  horses  and 
pups  and  costly  cattle."  Then,  turning  to 
Mr.  Cabot.  "  It  is  the  young  man  I  brought 
into  your  office  this  morning,  Jim." 

"Well,  he  is  too  beautiful  for  the  coun- 
try !  If  I  could  spend  a  summer  near  a  face 
like  that  I  shouldn't  care  what  the  scenery 
was." 

"  Is  his  name  Amos  Judd  ?  "  asked  Molly. 

"  Why,  yes.     Do  you  know  him?  " 

"  I  think  I  met  him  early  this  winter.  His 
reputation  is  not  the  best  in  the  world,  is  it  ?  " 

Mr.  Fettiplace  seemed  embarrassed.  He 
took  a  sip  of  wine  before  answering. 

"  Perhaps  not.  There  have  been  stories 
about  him,  but,"  and  he  continued  with 
more  than  his  habitual  earnestness,  "  I  have 
a  higher  opinion  of  him  and  would  trust  him 
farther  than  any  young  man  I  know  !  ' ' 

She  felt,  nevertheless,  that  Mr.  Judd's 
reputation  might  not  be  a  proper  subject  for 
a  young  lady  to  discuss,  and  she  remained 
silent.  But  her  father  was  not  a  young  lady, 
and  he  had  heard  nothing  of  the  improprie- 
ties of  the  young  man's  career.  "  What  is 
his  particular  line  of  sin  ?  "  he  inquired. 

"He  has  none.  At  present  he  is  all 
right ;  but  at  college,  and  that  was  five  years 


AMOS  JUDD  55 

ago,  I  am  afraid  he  took  a  livelier  interest  in 
petticoats  than  in  the  advertised  course  of 
study." 

"  Of  course  he  did,"  said  Mr.  Cabot. 
1  i  That  beauty  was  given  him  for  the  delecta- 
tion of  other  mortals.  To  conceal  it  behind 
a  book  would  be  opposing  the  will  of  his 
Creator. ' ' 

"  Poor  Amos,"  said  Mr.  Fettiplace  with 
a  smile,  as  he  slowly  shook  his  head.  "  His 
beauty  is  his  curse.  He  regards  it  as  a 
blight,  is  ashamed  of  it,  and  would  give  a 
good  deal  to  look  like  other  people.  Every- 
body wonders  who  he  is  and  where  he  came 
from.  As  for  the  women,  they  simply  can- 
not keep  their  eyes  away  from  him." 

"  If  I  were  a  woman,"  said  Mr.  Cabot,  in 
a  slow,  judicial  manner,  "  I  should  throw  my 
arms  about  his  neck  and  insist  upon  remain- 
ing there." 

Mr.  Fettiplace  chuckled,  not  only  at  the 
solemnity  of  his  friend's  face  during  the  de- 
livery of  the  speech,  but  at  the  contemptu- 
ous silence  with  which  this  and  similar  utter- 
ances were  received  by  the  daughter.  There 
had  always  been  a  gentler  and  more  lovable 
side  to  James  Cabot,  and  he  was  glad  to  see 
that  success  and  honors  had  not  destroyed 


56  AMOS  JUDD 

the  mental  friskiness  and  love  of  nonsense 
that  had  been  an  irresistible  charm  in  former 
years.  He  was  also  glad  to  witness  the  af- 
fection and  perfect  understanding  between 
father  and  daughter.  It  was  evident  that 
from  long  experience  she  was  always  able  to 
sift  the  wheat  from  the  chaff,  and  was  never 
deceived  or  unnecessarily  shocked  by  any- 
thing he  might  choose  to  say. 

"  Well,  he  will  be  here  soon,"  said  Mr. 
Fettiplace,  "  but  as  you  are  only  a  man,  you 
may  have  to  content  yourself  with  sitting  in 
his  lap." 

"  Is  Mr.  Judd  coming  here  this  even- 
ing?" inquired  Molly,  in  a  tone  that 
betrayed  an  absence  of  pleasure  at  the 
news. 

Her  father  looked  over  in  mild  surprise. 
"  Yes,  did  I  forget  to  tell  you  ?  I  asked  him 
to  dine,  but  he  had  another  engagement. 
He  is  to  drop  in  later.  And,  by  the  way, 
Sam,  where  did  the  young  man  get  that 
face  ?  No  line  of  Connecticut  farmers  be- 
queathed such  an  inheritance." 

"  No,  they  did  not.  Judd's  little  mystery 
has  never  been  cleared  up.  I  can  only  re- 
peat the  common  knowledge  of  Daleford, 
that  the  boy  was  brought  to  this  country 


AMOS  JUDD  57 

when  he  was  about  six  years  old,  and  that  a 
few  handfuls  of  diamonds  and  rubies  came 
with  him.  The  value  of  this  treasure  has 
been  exaggerated,  probably,  but  with  all  al- 
lowances made  it  must  have  amounted  to 
more  than  a  million  dollars." 

"  Why  !  "  exclaimed  Molly.      "  It's  quite 
like  a  fairy  tale  !  ' ' 

"Yes,  and  the  mystery  is  still  agoing. 
Josiah  Judd,  in  whose  hands  he  was  placed, 
happened  to  be  the  only  person  who  knew 
the  boy's  history,  and  he  died  without  telling 
it.  Who  the  child  was  or  why  he  was  sent 
here  no  one  knows  and  no  one  seems  likely 
to  discover.  Josiah  died  about  twelve  years 
ago,  and  ever  since  that  time  stray  clusters 
of  emeralds,  pearls,  and  diamonds  have  been 
turning  up  in  unexpected  places  about  the 
house.  Some  are  hidden  away  in  secretary 
drawers,  others  folded  in  bits  of  paper  behind 
books.  They  have  tumbled  from  the  pockets 
of  Josiah's  old  clothes,  and  a  few  years  ago  his 
widow  discovered  in  one  of  his  ancient  slip- 
pers an  envelope  containing  something  that 
felt  like  seeds.  On  the  outside  was  writ- 
ten *  Amos' s  things.'  She  tore  it  open  and 
found  a  dozen  or  more  magnificent  rubies, 
rubies  such  as  one  never  sees  in  this  country. 


58  AMOS  JUDD 

They  were  sold  for  over  two  hundred  thou- 
sand dollars." 

"  Gracious  !  "  exclaimed  Molly,  "  what 
possessed  him  to  leave  them  in  such  places  ? 
Was  he  crazy?" 

"  On  the  contrary,  he  was  too  wise.  Not 
wishing  to  dispose  of  them  in  a  lump,  he  did 
it  gradually,  and  concealed  them  for  greater 
safety  in  different  places,  so  that  no  one  thief 
could  steal  them  all.  Whenever  he  sold 
them  he  invested  the  proceeds  in  solid  se- 
curities. No  one  knows  to  what  extent  the 
old  farm-house  is  still  a  jewel  casket.  It  is 
more  than  likely  that  cracks  and  corners  to- 
day are  hiding  their  precious  stones. ' ' 

"  How  mysterious  and  exciting  !  "  ex- 
claimed Molly.  ' '  It  seems,  too  romantic  for 
practical  New  England." 

"That  is  just  the  trouble  with  it,"  said 
her  father.  He  leaned  back  in  his  chair  and 
continued,  with  a  smile.  "  I  suspect  our 
guest  has  been  reading  his  '  Monte  Christo  ' 
lately,  which  may  account  for  a  pardonable 
exaggeration  in  a  historian  who  means  to  be 
honest.  Who  told  you  all  this,  Sam?  The 
Judd's  family  cat?  " 

Mr.  Fettiplace  drew  his  hand  slowly  across 
his  forehead  and  closed  his  blue  eyes,  as  if 


AMOS  JUDD  59 

hesitating  for  a  reply.  "There  is  so  much 
that  is  hard  to  believe  connected  with  Amos 
that  one  ought  to  prepare  his  audience  be- 
fore talking  about  him.  I  will  tell  you  one 
little  thing  that  happened  to  myself,  an  oc- 
currence not  dependent  upon  other  people's 
credulity.  One  day  last  autumn,  late  in 
the  afternoon,  I  was  walking  along  an  un- 
travelled  road  through  the  woods,  when  I 
met  two  little  children  who  were  playing 
horse.  The  front  one,  the  horse,  wore  a 
garment  that  looked  like  a  white  silk  over- 
coat without  sleeves.  Otherwise  the  chil- 
dren were  roughly  clad,  with  battered  straw 
hats  and  bare  feet.  The  overcoat  had  a 
curious,  oriental  cut,  and  there  was  a  good 
deal  of  style  to  it;  so  much,  in  fact,  and  of 
such  a  foreign  flavor,  that  I  stopped  to  get 
a  better  look  at  it.  The  wearer,  a  boy  of 
eight  or  ten,  I  recognized  as  the  son  of  an 
unprosperous  farmer  who  lived  in  a  Dilapi- 
dated old  house  not  far  away.  When  I  asked 
him  where  he  got  his  jacket  he  said  he  wore 
it  at  the  children's  tableaux  :  that  he  was  the 
prince  who  awoke  the  sleeping  beauty  in  the 
town  hall  last  night.  Then  I  remembered 
there  had  been  a  performance  to  raise  money 
for  the  library. 


60  AMOS  JUDD 

"  While  talking  with  him  I  noticed  there 
were  four  rows  of  little  pearl-shaped  buttons 
around  the  neck  and  down  the  front.  They 
formed  part  of  an  elaborate  design,  beauti- 
fully embroidered  in  gold  and  silver  thread, 
old  and  somewhat  tarnished,  but  in  excellent 
preservation.  I  asked  him  what  those  orna- 
ments were,  and  he  answered  they  were 
beads.  '  But  who  owns  the  jacket  ? '  I 
asked  :  '  Does  it  belong  to  you  ? '  No,  it 
belonged  to  Mrs.  Judd,  who  had  lent  it  for 
the  performance.  '  Then  why  don't  you  re- 
turn it  to  Mrs.  Judd  ?  '  Oh,  they  were  going 
to  return  it  to-morrow  morning.  I  offered 
to  take  it,  as  I  was  going  that  way,  and  the 
jacket  was  handed  over. 

"The  more  I  examined  the  article,  the 
more  interested  I  became,  and  finally  I  sat 
down  on  a  rock  and  made  a  study  of  it.  I 
found  the  garment  was  of  white  silk  and 
completely  covered  with  a  most  elaborate 
stitching  of  gold  and  silver  thread.  I  am 
no  expert  in  precious  stones,  but  I  knew 
those  beads  were  either  pearls  or  tremendous- 
ly clever  imitations,  and  when  I  remem- 
bered there  was  a  good  old-fashioned  mys- 
tery connected  with  Amos's  arrival  in  these 
parts,  I  began  to  feel  that  the  beads  stood  a 


AMOS  JUDD  6 1 

fair  chance  of  being  more  than  they  pre- 
tended. I  counted  a  hundred  and  twenty 
of  them. 

"  When  I  took  the  garment  to  Mrs.  Judd 
and  told  her  what  I  thought,  she  didn't 
seem  at  all  surprised  ;  simply  told  me  it  had 
been  lying  in  a  bureau  -  drawer  ever  since 
Amos  came,  about  twenty  years  ago.  She 
is  over  eighty  and  her  memory  has  gone 
rapidly  the  last  few  years,  but  she  closed  her 
eyes,  stroked  her  hair,  and  said  she  remem- 
bered now  that  her  husband  had  told  her 
this  jacket  was  worth  a  good  many  dollars. 
And  so  they  always  kept  it  locked  away  in 
an  upstairs  drawer,  but  she  had  forgotten  all 
about  that  when  she  offered  it  to  the  Faxons 
for  their  performance.  Down  the  front  of 
the  jacket  were  large  splashes  of  a  dark  red- 
dish-brown color  which  she  said  had  always 
been  there,  and  she  remembered  thinking,  as 
she  first  laid  the  coat  away,  that  Amos  had 
been  in  some  mischief  with  currant  jelly. 
Amos  was  away  just  then,  but  when  he  re- 
turned we  took  all  the  beads  off,  and  a  few 
days  later  I  showed  a  dozen  of  them  to  a 
New  York  jeweller  who  said  they  were  not 
only  real  pearls,  but  for  size  and  quality  he 
had  seldom  seen  their  equal. '  ' 


62  AMOS  JUDD 

"  They  must  have  been  tremendously  valu- 
able, ' '  said  Molly. 

"  They  averaged  twelve  hundred  dollars 
apiece. ' ' 

"Gracious!"  she  exclaimed.  "And 
there  were  a  hundred  and  twenty  of  them  ?  ' ' 

"  Yes;  they  brought  a  little  more  than  a 
hundred  and  forty  thousand  dollars. ' ' 

"  It  all  harmonizes  with  Judd's  appear- 
ance," said  Mr.  Cabot;  "  I  should  not  ex- 
pect him  to  subsist  on  every-day  American 
dividends.  But  it's  a  good  jacket,  even  for 
fairy  land." 

"Yes,  it  certainly  is,  and  yet  there  was 
the  usual  touch  of  economy  in  it,"  Mr. 
Fettiplace  continued.  "  When  wre  came  to 
remove  the  pearls,  we  found  a  little  gold 
loop  or  ring  in  the  setting  behind  each  one 
of  them.  Those  loops  passed  through  a  sort 
of  circular  buttonhole  in  the  garment,  and  a 
gold  wire,  running  along  beneath  the  silk, 
held  the  jewels  in  place,  so  that  by  drawing 
out  the  wire  they  were  all  detached." 

( '  Well,  where  was  the  economy  in  that  ?  ' ' 

"  By  being  adjusted  and  removed  so  easi- 
ly they  probably  served,  when  occasion  re- 
quired, as  necklace,  belt,  bracelets,  earrings, 
diadems,  or  the  Lord  knows  what." 


AMOS  JUDD  63 

"  Of  course,"  assented  Mr.  Cabot.  "A 
frugal  device  that  might  be  of  service  to 
other  farmers.  And  you  began,  Sam,  by 
describing  Daleford  as  an  uneventful  place. 
It  seems  to  me  that  Bagdad  is  nothing  to 
it." 

Mr.  Fettiplace  sipped  his  coffee  without 
replying.  After  a  short  silence,  however, 
with  his  eyes  upon  the  coffee  which  he 
stirred  in  an  absent-minded  way,  he  con- 
tinued : 

"  There  are  one  or  two  other  things  con- 
nected with  Judd  which  are  much  more  dif- 
ficult to  explain.  Daleford  is  full  of  mys- 
terious tales  of  supernatural  happenings  in 
which  he  is  the  hero  of  prophecies  and  ex- 
traordinary fulfilments ;  always  incredible, 
but  told  in  honest  faith  by  practical, 
hard-headed  people.  Any  native  will  give 
them  to  you  by  the  yard,  but  the  hero, 
under  no  conditions,  ever  alludes  to  them 
himself." 

"  Which  probably  proves,"  said  Mr.  Ca- 
bot, "  that  the  hero  is  the  only  one  to  be  re- 
lied on.  It  is  such  fun  to  believe  in  the  in- 
credible !  That  is  the  charm  of  miracles, 
that  they  are  impossible." 

The  rosy   guest  turned    to    the  daughter 


64  AMOS  JUDD 

with  a  smile,  saying:  "  And  there  is 
nothing  like  a  hard-headed  old  lawyer  to 
drag  you  back  to  earth." 

"  What  were  these  tales,  Mr.  Fettiplace? 
What  did  they  refer  to?  "  she  asked. 

But  Mr.  Fettiplace  evidently  felt  that  he 
had  said  enough,  possibly  because  a  portion 
of  his  audience  was  not  of  encouraging  ma- 
terial, for  he  only  answered  in  a  general 
way  that  the  stories  related  to  impossible  ex- 
periences, and  were  probably  only  village 
gossip. 

After  dinner  they  sat  around  the  fire  in 
the  next  room,  the  two  men  with  their 
cigars  and  Molly  at  work  over  a  bit  of  tapes- 
try representing  the  Maid  of  Orleans  on  a 
fat,  white  horse.  This  horse,  according  to 
her  father,  must  have  belonged  to  a  Liver- 
pool circus,  and  was  loaned  to  Joanna  for 
tapestry  only.  When  Mr.  Judd  appeared 
Molly  felt  an  augmented  interest  in  this 
hero  of  the  white  jacket,  but  it  was  against 
both  conscience  and  judgment  and  in  spite 
of  a  pious  resolve  to  consider  him  simply  as 
a  libertine  with  a  murderous  temper.  That 
her  father  and  Mr.  Fettiplace  had  no  such 
abhorrence  was  evident  from  their  cordial 
greeting. 


AMOS  JUDD  65 

The  conversation  became  general,  although 
the  burden  of  it  was  borne  by  Mr.  Fettiplace, 
who  seemed  to  possess  upon  every  subject 
either  some  interesting  facts  or  a  novel  theory. 
Once,  when  he  was  telling  them  something 
so  amusing  that  it  seemed  safe  to  count  upon 
a  strict  attention  from  all  his  hearers,  she 
looked  over  at  Mr.  Judd  and  found  his  eyes 
fixed  earnestly  upon  her  face.  It  was  a  look 
so  serious,  of  such  infinite  melancholy,  that 
in  surprise  her  own  glance  involuntarily 
lingered  for  a  second.  He  at  once  turned 
his  eyes  in  another  direction,  and  she  felt 
angry  with  herself  for  having  given  him  even 
so  slight  a  testimonial  of  her  interest.  Al- 
though a  trivial  episode,  it  served  to  increase 
the  existing  hostility  and  to  strengthen  an 
heroic  resolve.  This  resolve  was  to  impress 
upon  him,  kindly  but  clearly,  the  impossi- 
bility of  a  serious  respect  on  her  part  for  a 
person  of  such  unenviable  repute.  Later, 
when  the  two  older  men  went  up  into  the 
library  to  settle  some  dispute  concerning  a 
date,  he  came  ,over  and  seated  himself  in  a 
chair  nearer  her  own,  but  also  facing  the 
fire. 

"  Your  ears  must  have  tingled  this  even- 
ing, Mr.  Judd." 


66  AMOS  JUDD 

"  An,  has  Mr.  Fetti place  been  giving  me 
away  ?  ' ' 

"  On  the  contrary  ;  he  is  a  stanch  friend 
of  yours. ' ' 

"Indeed  he  is,  but  it  might  require  an 
exceedingly  skilful  friend  to  throw  a  favor ' 
able  light  on  such  a  subject. " 

"  How  delightfully  modest !  I  assure  you 
he  gave  you  an  excellent  character.*7 

"  Did  you  think  it  was  a  wilful  deception, 
or  that  he  was  simply  mistaken  ?  ' ' 

She  turned  and  saw  upon  his  face  an 
amused  smile,  half  triumphant  yet  good- 
humored.  She  lowered  her  eyes  to  the 
bronze  ornament  on  the  table  that  was  slow- 
ly revolving  between  her  fingers.  "  Am 
I  so  incapable  of  believing  good  of  oth- 
ers?" 

"  Certainly  not  !  But  when  I  saw  you 
last  I  suffered  from  an  unpleasant  belief  that 
neither  the  Devil  nor  myself  was  the  gen- 
tleman you  were  looking  for.  So  I  took  the 
liberty  of  putting  one  or  two  things  together, 
and  decided  that  the  faithful  Bennett  might 
have  honored  me  by  a  mention." 

"  Why  suspect  Mr.  Bennett  of  such  a 
thing?" 

"  Well,  partly  because  he  is  a  vindictive 


AMOS  JUDD  67 

and  unscrupulous  liar,  and  partly  because  he 
is  the  only  enemy  I  saw  there." 

This  was  said  gently,  in  his  usual  low 
voice,  with  perfect  calmness,  and  it  was  said 
amiably,  as  if  sympathizing  with  an  unfortu- 
nate friend. 

"  You  seem  able  to  meet  him  on  his  own 
ground." 

"  Oh,  no  !  There  is  all  the  diiference  in 
the  world." 

She  looked  toward  him  interrogatively, 
but  with  an  expression  that  plainly  indicated 
a  difference  of  opinion.  He  continued  in 
the  same  tone,  with  no  sign  of  animosity  : 
"  The  difference  is  this,  that  he  tells  others 
what  he  never  tells  me.  I  tell  others  his 
mind  is  filthy  and  his  spirit  is  mean ;  that 
he  is  without  honor  and  is  a  liar,  but  I  also 
tdll&i*" 

"  You  have  told  him  that?  " 

"Often:  sometimes  to  himself  alone, 
sometimes  in  the  presence  of  others. ' ' 

She  could  not  restrain  a  smile.  "  It  must 
be  a  pleasant  thing  to  tell  a  man  !  " 

"  A  man?  Oh,  that  would  be  a  different 
matter  !  ' ' 

There  was  a  barbaric  simplicity  in  all  this 
that  she  could  not  help  respecting,  particular- 


68  AMOS  JUDD 

ly  as  she  felt  he  was  telling  the  truth,  and  as 
she  sympathized  with  him  heartily  in  this 
opinion  of  Horace  Bennett.  While  openly 
unforgiving  and  vindictive,  he  appeared  to 
regard  his  enemy  with  the  half-serious  con- 
tempt of  a  gentle  but  experienced  philoso- 
pher. But  she  remembered  her  resolution. 

"  Mr.  Fetti place  has  been  telling  us  about 
that  white  jacket.  What  an  interesting 
story  !  ' ' 

"  Yes,  everything  he  tells  is  interesting. 
He  has  a  rare  faculty  in  that  direction." 

"  But  in  this  case  he  had  an  unusual  sub- 
ject. It  is  like  a  fairy  story.  I  suppose  you 
wore  it  some  time  or  other  ?  ' ' 

"  I  suppose  so." 

"  But  you  must  remember." 

(l  Vaguely.  I  was  only  seven  years  old 
when  I  came  to  this  country  and  I  never 
wore  it  here. ' ' 

( '  Have  you  even  forgotten  how  you  spilled 
the  currant  jelly  down  the  front  ?  ' ' 

"Currant  jelly? "  he  repeated,  and  looked 
inquiringly  toward  her.  * '  I  have  not  heard 
that  theory." 

"You  were  the  culprit  and  ought  to 
know.  But  strawberry  is  just  as  bad,  I  sup- 
pose." 


AMOS  JUDD  69 

After  a  slight  hesitation  he  answered, 
"  Those  are  blood-stains." 

Turning  toward  him  for  further  informa- 
tion, she  could  not  help  thinking  how  much 
more  he  was  in  harmony  with  a  tale  of  pearls 
and  mystery  and  human  blood  than  with  jam 
or  currant  jelly.  As  he  made  no  answer  but 
sat  gazing  absently  at  the  fire,  she  expressed 
a  hope  that  his  youthful  nose  had  not  col- 
lided with  the  stairs  or  with  the  fist  of  some 
larger  boy. 

"  No,  not  that  exactly,"  he  replied,  with 
his  eyes  still  upon  the  fire.  "  It  is  a  long 
story  and  would  not  interest  you."  Then 
looking  up,  he  continued,  with  more  anima- 
tion, "I  am  glad  there  is  a  possibility  of 
your  coming  to  Daleford.  It  is  an  ideal 
place  to  be  quiet  in." 

"  So  Mr.  Fettiplace  tells  us,  but  you  are 
mistaken  about  the  history  of  the  jacket.  It 
would  interest  me,  and  I  should  like  extreme- 
ly to  hear  it ;  unless  of  course  you  prefer  not 
to  tell  it." 

1 '  If  you  wish  to  hear  it  that  is  reason 
enough  for  the  telling,  but — isn't  it  rather 
cruel  to  force  a  man  to  talk  only  about 
himself?" 

"  No  ;  not  in  this  case.     It  gives  an  op- 


70  AMOS  JUDD 

portunity  to  prove,  by  the  perfection  of  your 
boyhood,  that  you  are  less  vile  than  you  be- 
lieve Horace  Bennett  to  have  painted  you." 

"  That  would  be  impossible.  No  human 
record  could  wipe  out  an  effect  once  laid  in 
by  such  a  hand.  Besides,  there  is  nothing 
in  the  jacket  to  repair  a  damaged  reputation. ' ' 

"  The  fact  of  telling  the  story  will  count 
in  your  favor." 

"  In  that  case  I  will  make  an  effort."  He 
rested  an  elbow  on  the  arm  of  his  chair, 
slowly  stroking  the  back  of  his  head  as  if 
uncertain  where  to  begin.  "It  is  really  a 
foolish  thing  to  do,"  he  said  at  last,  "but 
if  you  are  relentless  I  suppose  there  is  no  es- 
cape. In  the  first  place,  to  begin  at  the  very 
beginning,  there  was  a  little  court  with  arches 
all  around  it,  with  grass  in  the  centre  and  a 
fountain  at  each  corner.  On  the  marble 
steps,  at  one  end,  we  were  all  sitting,  a  dozen 
or  more  children,  watching  a  man  with  a 
bear  and  two  monkeys.  These  monkeys  had 
sham  fights.  One  was  dressed  like  an  Eng- 
lish soldier  with  a  red  jacket,  and  he  always 
got  the  worst  of  it.  It  was  great  fun  and  we 
all  laughed." 

"Where  was  this?" 

"  In  India.     At  the  very  beginning  of  the 


AMOS  JUDD  71 

show,  when  the  English  monkey  for  a  mo- 
ment was  on  top,  a  servant  rushed  into  the 
court  and  dragged  me  away.  It  was  a  bar- 
barous deed,  and  I  was  ugly;  as  disagree- 
able probably  as  Horace  Bennett  could  have 
wished.  So  I  only  lose  ground,  you  see,  by 
telling  this  story." 

"  Never  mind.  Unless  you  tell  it  I  shall 
believe  the  worst. ' ' 

"Well,  looking  back  as  I  was  dragged 
along,  the  last  thing  I  saw  was  the  red 
monkey  being  chased  and  beaten  by  the 
white  one,  and  they  scrambled  right  up  the 
bear's  back.  In  the  chamber  where  we  went 
that  white  jacket  was  brought  out  and  I  made 
another  row,  for  I  knew  it  meant  a  long  and 
tiresome  performance  in  which  I  had  to  keep 
still  and  behave  myself. ' ' 

"  A  performance  on  a  stage?" 

"  No  ;  in  a  large  room,  with  lots  of  peo- 
ple standing  about.  As  our  procession  started 
for  the  big  hall,  which  was  several  rooms 
away  on  another  side  of  the  house,  I  noticed 
that  my  uncle  and  one  or  two  others  kept 
closer  to  me  than  usual.  There  was  a  tre- 
mendous haste  and  confusion,  and  everybody 
seemed  excited." 

In  telling  his  story    Mr.   Judd    spoke  in 


72  AMOS  JUDD 

a  low  voice,  pronouncing  his  words  clearly 
and  with  a  certain  precision.  His  only  gest- 
ure consisted  in  occasionally  drawing  a  hand 
slowly  up  the  back  of  his  head,  as  if  finding 
solace  in  rubbing  the  short  thick  hair  in  the 
wrong  direction.  Although  his  voice  and 
manner  suggested  an  indolent  repose,  she 
noticed  that  the  brown  hands,  with  their 
long  fingers,  were  hard  and  muscular,  and 
were  the  hands  of  a  nervous  temperament. 

' '  When  we  entered  the  large  hall  there 
were  lots  of  people,  mostly  soldiers,  and  in 
uniforms  I  had  not  seen  before.  The  prin- 
cipal person  seemed  to  be  a  short,  thick-set 
man  with  a  round  face  and  big  eyes,  who 
stood  in  the  centre  of  the  room,  and  his  wide 
sash  and  odd -looking  turban  with  gold  scales 
interested  me  tremendously.  We  all  stood 
there  a  few  minutes  and  there  was  a  good 
deal  of  talk  about  something,  when  all  of  a 
sudden  this  man  with  the  handsome  turban 
seized  me  under  the  arms  with  both  hands- 
lifted  me  up,  and  handed  me  to  a  big  chap 
behind  him. 

Then  came  a  free  fight,  a  general  commo- 
tion, with  shouting  and  rushing  about,  and 
sword-blades  in  the  air.  A  friend  tried  to 
pull  me  away,  but  the  big  man  who  held 


AMOS  JUDD  73 

me  laid  his  head  open  with  a  blow.  A  sec- 
ond later  the  big  man  himself  received  a  cut 
from  my  uncle  at  the  base  of  his  neck,  where 
it  joins  the  shoulder,  that  made  him  stag- 
ger and  turn  half  about :  then  he  tumbled 
to  the  floor  and  held  me  all  the  tighter  as 
he  fell.  As  we  landed  I  came  on  top,  but 
he  rolled  over  and  lay  across  me  with  his 
head  on  my  stomach.  He  was  so  heavy 
that  he  held  me  down  and  the  blood  poured 
from  his  neck  over  my  white  clothes." 

Molly  had  stopped  working.  With  her 
hands  in  her  lap  and  her  eyes  fixed  eagerly 
on  his  face,  she  uttered  an  exclamation  of 
horror.  He  said,  with  a  smile  : 

"  Not  a  cheerful  story,  is  it  ?  " 

' '  It  is  awful !    But  what  happened  then  ?  ' ' 

"Well,  as  I  struggled  to  get  from  under 
I  saw  my  uncle  turn  upon  the  first  man, 
the  leader,  but  he  was  too  late.  Someone 
gave  him  a  thrust,  and  he  staggered  and 
came  down  beside  us.  I  remember  he  lay 
so  near  that  I  reached  out  and  touched  his 
cheek  with  my  finger.  I  spoke  to  him,  but 
he  never  answered." 

There  was  a  silence,  she  watching  him, 
waiting  for  the  rest  of  the  story,  while  he 
gazed  silently  into  the  fire. 


74  AMOS  JUDD 

"  And  what  happened  next?  " 

"  Oh,  excuse  me !  That  is  about  all. 
During  the  hubbub  and  slaughter  my  peo- 
ple hauled  me  from  beneath  the  big  chap 
and  I  was  hurried  away.  I  remember,  as 
we  ran  through  the  chambers  near  the  little 
court,  I  heard  my  friends  still  laughing  at 
the  monkeys." 

He  seemed  to  consider  the  story  finished. 
"  May  I  fool  with  that  fire?  "  he  asked. 

"  Certainly,  but  what  was  all  the  fighting 
about?" 

As  the  fire  was  encouraged  into  a  fresher 
life  he  answered  :  "  I  never  knew  distinctly. 
That  night  a  few  others  and  myself  went 
down  to  the  river,  through  the  gardens,  were 
rowed  to  a  little  steamer  and  taken  aboard. 
We  sailed  down  a  long  river,  and  afterward 
a  big  steamer  brought  three  of  us  to  America. 
And  then  to  Daleford." 

"  Why  on  earth  to  Daleford  ?  " 

"  Because  it  was  desirable  to  land  me  in 
some  amusing  metropolis,  and  I  suppose  the 
choice  lay  between  Paris  and  Daleford. 
Daleford,  of  course,  won." 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  she  hastened  to 
say.  "My  curiosity  seems  to  be  running 
away  with  me." 


AMOS  JUDD  75 

"  Oh,  please  do  not  apologize.  There  is 
no  secret  about  Daleford.  I  only  answered 
in  that  way  as  I  suddenly  realized  how  re- 
freshing it  must  be  to  hear  a  stranger  tell 
pathetic  stories  about  himself.  It  is  I  who 
apologize.  They  brought  me  to  Daleford 
through  Mr.  Judd's  brother,  who  was  a  good 
friend  and  was  with  us  at  that  row. ' ' 

He  stood  before  the  fire  with  the  poker  in 
his  hand,  and  looked  down  with  a  smile  as 
he  continued  :  "I  believe  you  have  never 
been  to  Daleford,  but  if  you  were  a  field- 
mouse  that  could  sleep  all  winter,  and  didn'  t 
care  to  be  disturbed  in  summer,  you  would 
find  it  an  ideal  spot.  If  you  were  a  field- 
mouse  of  average  social  instincts  you  would 
never  pull  through." 

' '  And  yet  Mr.  Fettiplace  advises  us  to  go 
there." 

"  Oh,  that's  for  a  summer  only,  and  is 
quite  different." 

From  Daleford  they  went  to  other  sub- 
jects, but  to  her  his  own  career  proved  of 
far  greater  interest,  and  the  usual  topics 
seemed  commonplace  and  uneventful  by 
comparison.  Delicately  and  with  subtle 
tact,  she  made  one  or  two  efforts  to  get  fur- 
ther information  regarding  his  childhood 


76  AMOS  JUDD 

and  the  fabulous  jewels,  but  her  endeavors 
were  vain.  Of  himself  he  talked  no  more. 
In  a  sense,  however,  she  was  rewarded  by 
a  somewhat  surprising  discovery  in  relation 
to  his  mental  furniture.  When  the  con- 
versation turned  incidentally  upon  litera- 
ture she  found  him  in  the  enjoyment  of  an 
ignorance  so  vast  and  so  comprehensive 
that  it  caused  her,  at  first,  to  doubt  the 
sincerity  of  his  own  self-conviction.  Of 
her  favorite  books  he  had  not  read  one. 
To  him  the  standard  novelists  were  but 
names.  Of  their  works  he  knew  noth- 
ing. This  ignorance  he  confessed  cheer- 
fully and  without  shame. 

"  But  what  do  you  do  with  yourself?  "  she 
demanded.  t '  Do  you  never  read  anything  ? ' ' 

"  Oh,  yes;  I  have  not  forgotten  my 
letters.  For  modern  facts  I  read  the 
papers,  and  for  the  other  side  of  life  I  take 
poetry.  But  the  modern  novel  is  too  se- 
vere a  punishment.  It  is  neither  poetry 
nor  wisdom." 

Until  the  two  other  men  came  down  from 
the  library  she  had  no  idea  of  the  lateness 
of  the  hour.  Mr.  Fettiplace  laid  a  hand  on 
the  young  man's  shoulder  and,  with  a  roseate 
smile,  explained  the  situation. 


AMOS  JUDD  77 

"  This  fellow  is  from  the  country,  Miss 
Molly,  and  you  must  excuse  him  for  ex- 
pecting, when  invited  out  to  dinner,  that  he 
is  to  remain  to  breakfast." 

A  moment  or  two  later,  as  the  three  men 
were  standing  before  the  fire,  she  was  aston- 
ished by  a  bit  of  unexpected  wisdom.  He 
was  regarding  with  apparent  interest  a  little 
etching  that  hung  near  the  mantel,  when 
Mr.  Cabot  explained  that  it  was  a  very  old 
one  he  had  purchased  in  Germany,  and  rep- 
resented the  battle  of  Hennersdorf.  Mr. 
Judd  thought  it  must  be  the  battle  of  Moll- 
witz,  and  gave  as  reasons  for  his  belief  the 
position  of  the  Prussians  in  relation  to  a 
certain  hill  and  the  retreat  of  the  Austrian 
cavalry  at  that  stage  of  the  fight.  Mr.  Ca- 
bot, obviously  surprised  at  these  details,  re- 
plied, jokingly,  that  he  was  not  in  a  position 
to  contradict  a  soldier  who  was  present  at 
the  battle. 

This  afforded  great  amusement  to  the  rubi- 
cund guest,  who  exclaimed : 

"You  might  as  well  back  right  down, 
Jim  !  Amos  is  simply  a  walking  cyclopaedia 
of  military  facts  ;  and  not  a  condensed  one 
either  !  He  can  give  you  more  reliable  de- 
tails of  that  battle  than  Frederick  himself, 


78  AMOS  JUDD 

and  of  every  other  battle  that  has  ever 
been  fought,  from  Rameses  to  U.  S.  Grant. 
He  remembers  everything ;  why  the  victors 
were  victorious  and  how  the  defeated  might 
have  won.  I  believe  he  sleeps  and  eats  with 
the  great  conquerors.  You  ought  to  see  his 
library.  It  is  a  gallery  of  slaughter,  contain- 
ing nothing  but  records  of  carnage — and 
poetry.  Nothing  interests  him  like  blood 
and  verses.  Just  think,"  he  continued, 
turning  to  Molly,  "just  think  of  wasting 
your  life  in  the  nineteenth  century  when 
you  feel  that  you  possess  a  magnificent  genius 
for  wholesale  murder  that  can  never  have  a 
show!  " 

There  was  more  bantering,  especially  be- 
tween the  older  men,  a  promise  to  visit 
Daleford,  and  the  two  guests  departed. 


IV 


IN  April  the  Cabots  took  their  trip  to 
Daleford  and  found  it  even  more  inviting 
than  Mr.  Fettiplace  had  promised.  The 
spacious  house  among  the  elms,  with  its 
quaint  old  flower-garden,  the  air,  the  hills, 
the  restful  beauty  of  the  country,  were 
temptations  not  to  be  resisted,  and  within 
another  month  they  were  i  comfortably  ad- 
justed and  felt  at  home. 

The  house,  which  had  formerly  belonged 
to  Mr.  Morton  Judd,  stood  several  hundred 
feet  from  the  road  at  the  end  of  an  avenue 
of  wide-spreading  maples.  This  avenue  was 
the  continuation  of  another  and  a  similar 
avenue  extending  to  the  house  of  Josiah 
Judd,  directly  opposite,  and  the  same  dis- 
tance from  the  highway.  As  you  stood  at 
either  end  it  was  an  unbroken  arch  from  one 
residence  to  the  other.  When  Mr.  Morton 
Judd  was  married,  some  fifty  years  ago,  his 
father  had  erected  this  abode  for  him,  but 
the  young  man  soon  after  went  to  India, 
where  as  a  merchant  and  a  financier  he 


So  AMOS  JUDD 

achieved  success,  and  where  both  he  and  his 
wife  now  lay  at  rest.  Although  covering 
as  much  ground,  the  house  was  less  imposing 
than  the  more  venerable  mansion  at  the 
other  end  of  the  avenue. 

The  journey  beneath  the  maples  proved 
such  a  pleasant  one  and  was  so  easily  made 
as  to  invite  a  certain  familiarity  of  inter- 
course that  the  Cabots  saw  no  good  reason 
to  discourage.  Mrs.  Judd,  a  strong-framed 
woman  with  a  heavy  chin,  whose  failing 
memory  seemed  her  only  weakness,  was  now 
about  eighty  years  of  age,  and  generally  sat 
by  a  sunny  window  in  the  big  dining-room, 
where  she  rocked  and  knitted  from  morn- 
ing till  night,  paying  little  attention  to  what 
went  on  about  her.  If  Amos  had  been 
her  own  son  she  could  not  have  loved  him 
more,  and  this  affection  was  returned  in  full 
with  an  unceasing  thought  fulness  and  care. 
Both  Molly  and  her  father  were  gratified 
at  finding  in  this  young  man  a  neighbor 
whose  society  it  seemed  safe  to  encourage. 
He  proved  a  sensible,  unpretending  person, 
fond  of  fun  and  pleasure,  but  with  plenty 
of  convictions ;  these  convictions,  how- 
ever, while  a  source  of  amusement  to  Mr. 
Cabot,  were  not  always  accepted  by  the 


AMOS  JUDD  8 1 

daughter.  They  were  often  startling  depart- 
ures from  his  education  and  environment, 
and  showed  little  respect  for  conventional- 
ities. He  never  attended  church,  but  owned 
a  pew  in  each  of  the  five  temples  at  Daleford, 
and  to  each  of  these  societies  he  was  a  con- 
stant and  liberal  contributor.  For  three  of 
them  he  had  given  parsonages  that  were  or- 
naments to  the  village,  and  as  the  sectarian 
spirit  in  that  locality  was  alive  and  hot  these 
generous  gifts  had  produced  alternating  out- 
bursts of  thankfulness  and  rage,  all  of  which 
apparently  caused  neither  surprise  nor  an- 
noyance to  the  young  philosopher.  When 
Molly  Cabot  told  him,  after  learning  this, 
that  it  would  indicate  a  more  serious  Chris- 
tian spirit  if  he  paid  for  but  a  single  pew  and 
sat  in  it,  he  answered  : 

"  But  that  spirit  is  just  the  evil  I  try  to 
escape,  for  your  good  Christian  is  a  hot  sec- 
tarian. It  is  the  one  thing  in  his  religion 
he  will  fight  and  die  for,  and  it  seems  to  me 
the  one  thing  he  ought  to  be  ashamed  of.  If 
any  one  sect  is  right  and  the  others  wrong, 
it  is  all  a  hideous  joke  on  the  majority,  and 
a  proper  respect  for  the  Creator  prevents  my 
believing  in  any  such  favoritism." 

Occasionally  the  memory  of  his  offensive 
6 


82  AMOS  JUDD 

title  obtruded  itself  as  a  bar  to  that  confi- 
dence which  is  the  foundation  of  friendship, 
but  as  she  knew  him  better  it  became  more 
difficult  to  believe  that  he  could  ever  have 
been,  in  its  coarser  sense,  what  that  title  sig- 
nified. As  regarded  herself,  there  was  never 
on  his  part  the  faintest  suggestion  of  any- 
thing that  could  be  interpreted  as  love-mak- 
ing, or  even  as  the  mildest  attempt  at  a  flir- 
tation. She  found  him  under  all  conditions 
simple  and  unassuming,  and,  she  was  forced 
to  admit,  with  no  visible  tokens  of  that  per- 
sonal vanity  with  which  she  had  so  lavishly 
endowed  him.  His  serious  business  in  life 
was  the  management  of  the  Judd  farm,  and 
although  the  care  and  development  of  his 
animals  was  more  of  a  recreation  than  a  rigid 
necessity  he  wasted  little  money  in  unsuc- 
cessful experiments.  Mr.  Cabot  soon  discov- 
ered that  he  was  far  more  practical  and  busi- 
ness-like than  his  leisurely  manners  seemed 
to  indicate.  The  fondness  for  animals  that 
seemed  one  of  his  strongest  characteristics 
was  more  an  innate  affection  than  a  breed- 
er's fancy.  Every  animal  on  his  place,  from 
the  thoroughbred  horses  to  the  last  litter  of 
pups,  he  regarded  more  as  personal  friends 
than  as  objects  of  commercial  value. 


AMOS  JUDD  83 

When  Mr.  Cabot  and  Molly  made  their 
first  visit  to  the  farm,  they  noticed  in  the 
corner  of  a  field  a  number  of  dejected  horses 
huddled  solemnly  together.  Most  of  them 
were  well  beyond  middle  age  and  bore  the 
clearest  indications  of  a  future  that  was  de- 
void of  promise.  They  gazed  at  the  visitors 
with  listless  eyes,  and  as  a  congregation 
seemed  burdened  with  most  of  the  physical 
imperfections  of  extreme  antiquity. 

"  What  on  earth  are  those  ?  "  asked  Mr. 
Cabot.  "  Revolutionary  relics  ?  They  are 
too  fat  for  invalids." 

"  A  few  friends  of  my  youth." 

"I  should  think  from  the  number  you 
have  here  that  you  never  disposed  of  your 
old  friends,"  said  Mr.  Cabot. 

"  Only  when  life  is  a  burden." 

"Well,  I  am  glad  to  see  them,"  said 
Molly,  as  she  patted  one  or  two  of  the  noses 
that  were  thrust  toward  her.  "  It  does  you 
credit.  I  think  it  is  horrid  to  sell  a  horse 
that  has  used  himself  up  in  your  service. ' ' 

As  the  father  and  daughter  walked  home- 
ward along  the  avenue  of  maples,  Mr.  Cabot 
spoke  of  the  pleasure  the  young  man  derived 
from  his  animals,  and  the  good  sense  he  dis- 
played in  the  management  of  his  farm. 


84  AMOS  JUDD 

"  Yes,"  said  Molly,  "and  he  seems  too 
boyish  and  full  of  fun  for  anything  very  weird 
or  uncanny.  But  Mr.  Fettiplace  certainly 
believed  in  something  of  that  kind,  didn't 
he?" 

"  Of  course,  or  he  wouldn't  be  Fettiplace. 
That  sort  of  thing  is  always  interesting,  and 
the  world  is  full  of  people  who  can  believe 
anything  if  they  once  put  their  minds  on  it. 
Who  is  that  in  our  yard  ?  ' ' 

"  Deacon  White,  I  think.  He  has  come 
to  train  up  some  plants  for  me."  A  mo- 
ment later  she  took  her  father's  arm  and 
asked,  with  affected  humility :  "  Jimsey,  will 
you  do  something?  " 

"  No,  for  it's  sure  to  be  foolish." 

"  Well,  you  are  right,  but  you  can  do  it  so 
much  better  than  I.  Deacon  White  has  proba- 
bly known  Mr.  Judd  ever  since  he  was  a  lit- 
tle boy,  and  he  would  be  glad  of  an  oppor- 
tunity to  tell  what  he  knows  and  give  us  all 
the  town  talk  besides.  I  do  wish  you  would 
just  start  him  off." 

"  Start  him  off!  On  what?  Judd's  pri- 
vate history  ?  On  the  delicate  matters  he 
doesn't  wish  advertised  ?  ' ' 

"  No,  no  !  Of  course  not,  papa  !  How 
unpleasant  you  are !  I  only  want  him  to 


AMOS  JUDD  85 

throw  some  light  on  the  mysterious  things 
Mr.  Fettiplace  alluded  to." 

"  I  shall  do  nothing  of  the  kind.  If  you 
really  have  a  thirst  for  that  sort  of  knowl- 
edge, get  a  copy  of  Hans  Andersen.  He  has 
a  better  style  than  Deacon  White. ' ' 

A  few  moments  later,  when  Molly  and  the 
Deacon  were  alone  in  the  old  garden,  her  de- 
sire for  information  was  gratified  to  an  un- 
hoped-for extent,  and  the  information  was 
of  a  more  detailed  and  astonishing  character 
than  she  would  have  presumed  to  ask  for. 
The  Deacon,  a  little,  round-shouldered,  nar- 
row-chested man  of  seventy,  with  a  sun-dried 
face,  an  enormous  nose,  and  a  long  receding 
chin  with  a  white  beard  beneath,  possessed 
a  pair  of  wide-awake  eyes  that  seemed  many 
years  younger  than  himself. 

"  I  never  have  anything  to  do  with  roses 
without  thinkin'  of  Amos.  Did  you  ever 
notice  his?  " 

"  Yes ;  they  are  splendid  ones." 

"  Ain't  they  !  Well,  one  mornin',  when  he 
was  a  little  boy,  I  was  helpin'  him  set  out 
roses  along  the  side  of  the  house  where  the  big 
trellis  is,  and  he  said  he  wanted  red  ones,  not 
yellow  ones.  I  said  :  '  These  are  red  ones. 
They  are  cut  from  the  same  slip  as  the  others, 


86  AMOS  JUDD 

and  they've  got  to  be  red  whether  they  want 
to  or  not.'  Pretty  soon  Josiah  came  out, 
and  Amos  said  to  him  that  he  could  see  'em 
next  spring  and  they  would  all  be  yellow. 
And  what  took  me  all  aback  was  that  Josiah 
believed  it,  and  tried  to  persuade  him  that 
he  might  like  yellow  ones  for  a  change.  And 
I  tell  you,"  said  the  Deacon,  as  he  fixed  his 
little  young  eyes  on  her  face  to  watch  his 
effect,  "  I  just  stood  with  my  mouth  open 
one  mornin',  a  year  after,  when  I  saw  those 
roses,  that  oughter  been  red,  just  come  out 
into  a  yeller.  Of  course  it  was  a  mistake  in 
the  bushes,  but  how  did  he  know?  " 
"  It  might  have  been  a  coincidence." 
"  Yes,  it  might  have  been  a  coincidence. 
But  when  a  boy's  life  is  made  up  of  just 
those  things  you  begin  to  suspect  after  a 
while  that  perhaps  they  are  too  everlast- 
ingly reliable  for  coincidences.  You  can't 
always  bet  on  coincidences,  but  you  can  bet 
every  time  on  Amos.  My  daughter  Phoebe 
kept  school  down  in  the  village  for  a  spell 
when  Amos  was  about  ten  years  old.  There 
was  another  boy,  Billy  Hines,  who  never 
missed  a  lesson.  Phoebe  knew  he  was  a  dull 
boy  and  that  he  always  tried  to  give  larnin' 
the  whole  road  whenever  he  saw  it  comin', 


AMOS  JUDD  87 

and  it  kinder  surprised  her  to  have  him  stand 
at  the  head  of  his  class  all  the  time  and  make 
better  recitations  than  smarter  boys  who 
worked  hard.  But  he  always  knew  every- 
thing and  never  missed  a  question.  He  and 
Amos  were  great  friends,  more  because  Amos 
felt  sorry  for  him,  I  guess,  than  anything  else. 
Billy  used  to  stand  up  and  shine  every  day, 
when  she  knew  mighty  well  he  was  the  slow- 
est chap  in  the  whole  school  and  hadn't 
studied  his  lessons  neither.  Well,  one  day 
Amos  got  hove  about  twenty  feet  by  a  colt 
he  was  tryin'  to  ride  and  he  stayed  in  bed 
a  few  weeks.  Durin'  that  time  Billy  Hines 
couldn't  answer  a  question.  Not  a  question. 
He  and  arithmetic  were  strangers.  Also 
geography,  history,  and  everything  else  that 
he'd  been  intimate  with.  He  jest  stopped 
shinin',  like  a  candle  with  a  stopper  on  it. 
The  amount  of  it  was  she  found  that  Amos 
had  always  told  him  ahead  the  questions  he 
was  goin'  to  be  asked,  and  Billy  learned  the 
answers  just  before  he  stood  up  to  recite." 

"  Why,  how  did  Amos — how  did  Mr. 
Judd  know  what  questions  would  be 
asked?" 

"I  guess  'twas  just  a  series  of  coinci- 
dences that  happened  to  last  all  winter." 


88  AMOS  JUDD 

Molly  laughed.  "  How  unforgiving  you 
are,  Mr.  White  !  But  did  Amos  Judd  ex- 
plain it  ?  " 

"  He  didn't.  He  was  too  young  then  to 
do  it  to  anybody's  satisfaction,  and  now  that 
he's  older  he  won't." 

"  Why  not?" 

"Well,  he's  kind  of  sensitive  about  it. 
Never  talks  of  those  things,  and  don't  like 
to  have  other  folks." 

Molly  stood  looking  over  toward  the  Judd 
house,  wondering  how  much  of  the  Deacon's 
tale  was  truth,  and  how  much  was  village 
gossip  exaggerated  by  repetition. 

"  Did  you  ever  hear  about  Josiah's 
death?" 

Molly  shook  her  head. 

"  'Twas  to  him  that  Amos  was  fetched 
from  India.  One  mornin'  Josiah  and  I  were 
standin'  in  the  doorway  of  his  barn  talkin'. 
The  old  barn  used  to  be  closer  to  the  house, 
but  Amos  tore  it  down  after  he  built  that  big 
new  one.  Josiah  and  I  stood  in  the  door- 
way talkin'  about  a  new  yoke  of  oxen ; 
nothin'  excitin',  for  there  wasn't  any  cause 
for  it.  We  stood  in  the  doorway,  both 
facin'  out,  when  Josiah,  without  givin'  any 
notice,  sort  of  pitched  forward  and  fell  face 


AMOS  JUDD  89 

down  in  the  snow.  I  turned  him  over  and 
tried  to  lift  him  up,  but  when  I  saw  his 
face  I  was  scared.  Just  at  that  particular 
minute  the  doctor,  with  Amos  sittin'  in  the 
sleigh  beside  him,  drove  into  the  avenue 
and  hurried  along  as  if  he  knew  there  was 
trouble.  We  carried  Josiah  into  the  house, 
but  'twa'n't  any  use.  He  was  dead  before 
we  got  him  there.  It  was  heart  disease.  At 
the  funeral  I  said  to  the  doctor  it  was  lucky 
he  happened  along  just  then,  even  if  he 
couldn't  save  him,  and  I  found  there  was 
no  happen  about  it ;  that  Amos  had  run  to 
his  house  just  as  he  was  starting  off  some- 
wheres  else,  and  told  him  Josiah  was  dyin' 
and  to  get  there  as  fast  as  he  could." 

"That's  very  strange, "  Molly  said,  in  a 
low  voice.  She  had  listened  to  this  story 
with  a  feeling  of  awe,  for  she  believed  the 
Deacon  to  be  a  truthful  man,  and  this  was 
an  experience  of  his  own.  "This  myste- 
rious faculty,"  she  said,  "whatever  it  was, 
did  he  realize  it  fully  himself  ?  ' ' 

* '  I  guess  he  did  !  ' '  and  the  Deacon 
chuckled  as  he  went  on  with  his  work. 
"  And  he  used  to  play  tricks  with  it.  I  tell 
you  he  was  a  handful." 

"  Did  you  say  he  lost  it  as  he  grew  up?  " 


90  AMOS  JUDD 

The  Deacon  turned  about  and  answered, 
in  a  serious  tone :  ' i  No.  But  he  wants  folks 
to  think  so.  All  the  same,  there's  some- 
thing between  Amos  and  the  Almighty  that 
the  rest  of  us  ain't  into." 

One  Monday  morning,  toward  the  last 
of  June,  Molly  left  Daleford  for  a  two 
weeks'  visit  at  the  seashore.  Her  absence 
caused  a  void  that  extended  from  the  Cabot 
household  over  to  the  big  white  mansion  at 
the  farther  end  of  the  maples.  This  empti- 
ness and  desolation  drove  the  young  man  to 
frequent  visits  upon  Mr.  Cabot,  who,  in  his 
turn,  found  a  pleasant  relief  in  the  compan- 
ionship of  his  neighbor,  and  he  had  no  sus- 
picion of  the  solace  his  visitor  was  deriving 
from  sitting  upon  the  piazza  so  lately  hon- 
ored by  the  absent  girl.  The  eminent  law- 
yer was  not  aware  that  he  himself,  apart 
from  all  personal  merit,  was  the  object  of  an 
ardent  affection  from  his  relationship  to  his 
own  daughter.  For  the  first  twenty-four 
hours  the  two  disconsolates  kept  in  their 
own  preserves  to  a  reasonable  extent,  but  on 
Tuesday  they  took  a  fishing  trip,  followed 
in  the  evening  by  a  long  talk  on  the  Cabot 
piazza.  During  this  conversation  the  lawyer 
realized  more  fully  than  ever  the  courageous 


AMOS  JUDD  91 

ignorance  of  his  young  friend  in  all  matters 
that  had  failed  to  interest  him.  On  the 
other  hand,  he  was  impressed  by  the  young 
man's  clear,  comprehensive,  and  detailed 
knowledge  upon  certain  unfamiliar  subjects. 
In  spite  of  his  college  education  and  a  very 
considerable  knowledge  of  the  world  he  was, 
mentally,  something  of  a  spoiled  child  ;  yet 
from  his  good  sense,  originality,  and  moral 
courage  he  was  always  interesting. 

Wednesday,  the  third  day,  brought  a 
northeast  gale  that  swept  the  hills  and  val- 
leys of  Daleford  with  a  drenching  rain. 
Trees,  bushes,  flowers,  and  blades  of  grass 
dripping  with  water,  bent  and  quivered  be- 
fore the  wind.  Mr.  Cabot  spent  the  morn- 
ing among  his  books  and  papers,  writing 
letters  and  doing  some  work  which  the 
pleasant  weather  had  caused  him  to  defer. 
For  such  labors  this  day  seemed  especially 
designed.  In  the  afternoon,  about  two 
o'clock,  he  stood  looking  out  upon  the 
storm  from  his  library  window,  which  was 
at  the  corner  of  the  house  and  commanded 
the  long  avenue  toward  the  road.  The 
tempest  seemed  to  rage  more  viciously  than 
ever.  Bounding  across  the  country  in  sheets 
of  blinding  rain,  it  beat  savagely  against  the 


92  AMOS  JUDD 

glass,  then  poured  in  unceasing  torrents  down 
the  window-panes.  The  ground  was  soaked 
and  spongy  with  tempestuous  little  puddles 
in  every  hollow  of  the  surface.  In  the  dis- 
tance, under  the  tossing  maples,  he  espied  a 
figure  coming  along  the  driveway  in  a  water- 
proof and  rubber  boots.  He  recognized 
Amos,  his  head  to  one  side  to  keep  his  hat 
on,  gently  trotting  before  the  gale,  as  the 
mighty  force  against  his  back  rendered  a 
certain  degree  of  speed  perfunctory.  Mr. 
Cabot  had  begun  to  weary  of  solitude,  and 
saw  with  satisfaction  that  Amos  crossed  the 
road  and  continued  along  the  avenue.  Be- 
neath his  waterproof  was  something  large  and 
bulging,  of  which  he  seemed  very  careful. 
With  a  smiling  salutation  he  splashed  by  the 
window  toward  the  side  door,  laid  off  his 
outer  coat  and  wiped  his  ponderous  boots  in 
the  hall,  then  came  into  the  library  bearing 
an  enormous  bunch  of  magnificent  yellow 
roses.  Mr.  Cabot  recognized  them  as  com- 
ing from  a  bush  in  which  its  owner  took  the 
greatest  pride,  and  in  a  moment  their  fra- 
grance filled  the  room. 

"  What  beauties  !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  But 
are  you  sure  they  are  for  me  ?  " 

"  If  she  decides  to  give  them  to  you,  sir." 


AMOS  JUDD  93 

<  <  She  ?     Who  ?     Bridget  or  Maggie  ?  ' ' 

"  Neither.  They  belong  to  the  lady  who 
is  now  absent ;  whose  soul  is  the  Flower  of 
Truth,  and  whose  beauty  is  the  Glory  of  the 
Morning.'*  Then  he  added,  with  a  gesture 
of  humility,  "  That  is,  of  course,  if  she  will 
deign  to  accept  them." 

"  But,  my  well-meaning  young  friend, 
were  you  gifted  with  less  poetry  and  more 
experience  you  would  know  that  these  roses 
will  be  faded  and  decaying  memories  long 
before  the  recipient  returns.  And  you  a 
farmer  !  " 

Amos  looked  at  the  clock.  "  You  seem 
to  have  precious  little  confidence  in  my 
flowers,  sir.  They  are  good  for  three  hours, 
I  think." 

"  Three  hours  !  Yes,  but  to-day  is  Wed- 
nesday and  it  is  many  times  three  hours  be- 
fore next  Monday  afternoon." 

A  look  of  such  complete  surprise  came 
into  Amos' s  face  that  Mr.  Cabot  smiled  as 
he  asked,  "  Didn't  you  know  her  visit  was 
to  last  a  week?  " 

The  young  man  made  no  answer  to  this, 
but  looked  first  at  his  questioner  and  then  at 
his  roses  with  an  air  that  struck  Mr.  Cabot 
at  the  moment  as  one  of  embarrassment.  As 


94  AMOS  JUDD 

he  recalled  it  afterward,  however,  he  gave  it 
a  different  significance.  With  his  eyes  still 
on  the  flowers  Amos,  in  a  lower  voice,  said, 
"  Don't  you  know  that  she  is  coming  to- 
day ?" 

"  No.     Do  you?" 

The  idea  of  a  secret  correspondence  be- 
tween these  two  was  not  a  pleasant  sur- 
prise ;  and  the  fact  that  he  had  been  suc- 
cessfully kept  in  ignorance  of  an  event  of 
such  importance  irritated  him  more  than  he 
cared  to  show.  He  asked,  somewhat  dryly : 
"  Have  you  heard  from  her?  " 

"  No,  sir,  not  a  word,"  and  as  their 
eyes  met  Mr.  Cabot  felt  it  was  a  truthful  an- 
swer. 

"  Then  why  do  you  think  she  is  com- 
ing?" 

Amos  looked  at  the  clock  and  then  at  his 
watch.  "  Has  no  one  gone  to  the  station 
for  her?" 

"No   one,"    replied    Mr.   Cabot,  as    he 
turned  away  and  seated  himself  at  his  desk. 
"Why  should  they?" 

Then,  in  a  tone  which  struck  its  hearer  as 
being  somewhat  more  melancholy  than  the 
situation  demanded,  the  young  man  replied  : 
"  I  will  explain  all  this  to-morrow,  or  when- 


AMOS  JUDD  95 

ever  you  wish,  Mr.  Cabot.  It  is  a  long 
story,  but  if  she  does  come  to-day  she  will 
be  at  the  station  in  about  fifty  minutes. 
You  know  what  sort  of  a  vehicle  the  stage 
is.  May  I  drive  over  for  her  ?  ' ' 

"  Certainly,  if  you  wish." 

The  young  man  lingered  a  moment  as  if 
there  was  something  more  he  wished  to  add, 
but  left  the  room  without  saying  it.  A  min- 
ute later  he  was  running  as  fast  as  the  gale 
would  let  him  along  the  avenue  toward  his 
own  house,  and  in  a  very  short  time  Mr. 
Cabot  saw  a  pair  of  horses  with  a  covered 
buggy,  its  leather  apron  well  up  in  front, 
come  dashing  down  the  avenue  from  the  op- 
posite house.  Amid  a  fountain  of  mud  the 
little  horses  wheeled  into  the  road,  trotted 
swiftly  toward  the  village  and  out  of  sight. 

An  hour  and  a  half  later  the  same  horses, 
dripping  with  mud,  drew  up  at  the  door. 
Amos  got  out  first,  and  holding  the  reins 
with  one  hand,  assisted  Molly  with  the  other. 
From  the  expression  on  the  two  faces  it  was 
evident  their  cheerfulness  was  more  than  a 
match  for  the  fiercest  weather.  Mr.  Cabot 
might  perhaps  have  been  ashamed  to  con- 
fess it,  but  his  was  a  state  of  mind  in 
which  this  excess  of  felicity  annoyed  him. 


96  AMOS  JUDD 

He  felt  a  touch  of  resentment  that  another, 
however  youthful  and  attractive,  should 
have  been  taken  into  her  confidence,  while 
he  was  not  even  notified  of  her  arrival.  But 
she  received  a  hearty  welcome,  and  her  im- 
pulsive, joyful  embrace  almost  restored  him 
to  a  normal  condition. 

A  few  minutes  later  they  were  sitting  in 
the  library,  she  upon  his  lap  recounting  the 
events  that  caused  her  unexpected  return. 
Ned  Elliott  was  quite  ill  when  she  got  there, 
and  last  night  the  doctor  pronounced  it  ty- 
phoid fever;  that  of  course  upset  the  whole 
house,  and  she,  knowing  her  room  was 
needed,  decided  during  the  night  to  come 
home  this  morning.  Such  was  the  substance 
of  the  narrative,  but  told  in  many  words, 
with  every  detail  that  occurred  to  her,  and 
with  frequent  ramifications  ;  for  the  busy 
lawyer  had  always  made  a  point  of  taking 
a  very  serious  interest  in  whatever  his  only 
child  saw  fit  to  tell  him.  And  this  had  re- 
sulted in  an  intimacy  and  a  reliance  upon 
each  other  which  was  very  dear  to  both. 
As  Molly  was  telling  her  story  Maggie  came 
in  from  the  kitchen  and  handed  her  father 
a  telegram,  saying  Joe  had  just  brought  it 
from  the  post-office.  Mr.  Cabot  felt  for  his 


AMOS  JUDD  97 

glasses  and  then  remembered  they  were  over 
on  his  desk.  So  Molly  tore  it  open  and  read 
the  message  aloud. 

HON.  JAMES  CABOT, 
DALEFORD,  CONN. 

I  leave  for  home  this  afternoon  by  the  one- 
forty  train. 

MARY  CABOT. 

"  Why,  papa,  it  is  my  telegram  !  How 
slow  it  has  been  !  " 

"  When  did  you  send  it  ?  " 

"  I  gave  it  to  Sam  Elliott  about  nine 
o'clock  this  morning,  and  it  wouldn't  be 
like  him  to  forget  it." 

"  No,  and  probably  he  did  not  forget  it. 
It  only  waited  at  the  Bingham  station  a  few 
hours  to  get  its  breath  before  starting  on  a 
six-mile  walk." 

But  he  was  glad  to  know  she  had  sent  the 
message.  Suddenly  she  wheeled  about  on 
his  knee  and  inserted  her  fingers  between  his 
collar  and  his  neck,  an  old  trick  of  her  child- 
hood and  still  employed  when  the  closest  at- 
tention was  required.  "But  how  did  you 
know  I  was  coming  ?  ' ' 

"  I  did  not." 

"  But  you  sent  for  me." 
7 


98  AMOS  JUDD 

"  No,  Amos  went  for  you  of  his  own  ac- 
cord." 

' '  Well,  how  did  he  know  I  was  coming  ?  ' ' 

Mr.  Cabot  raised  his  eyebrows.  ' '  I  have 
no  idea,  unless  you  sent  him  word." 

11  Of  course  I  didn't  send  him  word. 
What  an  idea  !  Why  don't  you  tell  me  how 
you  knew  ?  ' '  and  the  honest  eyes  were  fixed 
upon  his  own  in  stern  disapproval.  He 
smiled  and  said  it  was  evidently  a  mysteri- 
ous case ;  that  she  must  cross-examine  the 
prophet.  He  then  told  her  of  the  roses  and 
of  his  interview  with  Amos.  She  was  mysti- 
fied, and  also  a  little  excited  as  she  recalled 
the  stories  of  Deacon  White,  but  knowing 
her  father  would  only  laugh  at  them,  con- 
tented herself  with  exacting  the  promise  of 
an  immediate  explanation  from  Mr.  Judd. 


EARLY  in  the  evening  the  young  man  ap- 
peared. He  found  Mr.  Cabot  and  Molly  sit- 
ting before  a  cheerful  fire,  an  agreeable  con- 
trast to  the  howling  elements  without.  She 
thanked  him  for  the  roses,  expressing  her  ad- 
miration for  their  uncommon  beauty. 

With  a  grave  salutation  he  answered,  "  I 
told  them,  one  morning,  when  they  were 
little  buds,  that  if  they  surpassed  all  previous 
roses  there  was  a  chance  of  being  accepted 
by  the  Dispenser  of  Sunshine  who  dwells 
across  the  way  ;  and  this  is  the  result  of  their 
efforts." 

"The  results  are  superb,  and  I  am  grate- 
ful." 

"There  is  no  question  of  their  beauty," 
said  Mr.  Cabot,  ' '  and  they  appear  to  pos- 
sess a  knowledge  of  coming  events  that  must 
be  of  value  at  times. ' ' 

"  It  was  not  from  the  roses  I  got  my  in- 
formation, sir.  But  I  will  tell  you  about  that 
now,  if  you  wish. ' ' 


ioo  AMOS  JUDD 

"  Well,  take  a  cigar  and  clear  up  the  mys- 
tery." 

It  seemed  a  winter's  evening,  as  the  three 
sat  before  the  fire,  the  older  man  in  the  cen- 
tre, the  younger  people  on  either  side,  facing 
each  other.  Mr.  Cabot  crossed  his  legs,  and 
laying  his  magazine  face  downward  upon  his 
lap,  said,  "  I  confess  I  shall  be  glad  to  have 
the  puzzle  solved,  as  it  is  a  little  deep  for  me 
except  on  the  theory  that  you  are  skilful  liars. 
Molly  I  know  to  be  unpractised  in  that  art, 
but  as  for  you,  Amos,  I  can  only  guess  what 
you  may  conceal  under  a  truthful  exterior." 

Amos  smiled.  "It  is  something  to  look 
honest,  and  I  am  glad  you  can  say  even  that. ' ' 
Then,  after  a  pause,  he  leaned  back  in  his 
chair  and,  in  a  voice  at  first  a  little  con- 
strained, thus  began  : 

"  As  long  ago  as  I  can  remember  I  used 
to  imagine  things  that  were  to  happen,  all 
sorts  of  scenes  and  events  that  might  possibly 
occur,  as  most  children  do,  I  suppose.  But 
these  scenes,  or  imaginings,  were  of  two 
kinds  :  those  that  required  a  little  effort  of 
my  own,  and  another  kind  that  came  with  no 
effort  whatever.  These  last  were  the  most 
usual,  and  were  sometimes  of  use  as  they  al- 
ways came  true.  That  is,  they  never  failed 


AMOS  JUDD  10 1 

to  occur  just  as  I  had  seen  them.  While  a 
child  this  did  not  surprise  me,  as  I  sup- 
posed all  the  rest  of  the  world  were  just  like 
myself. " 

At  this  point  Amos  looked  over  toward 
Molly  and  added,  with  a  faint  smile,  "  I  know 
just  what  your  father  is  thinking.  He  is  re- 
gretting that  an  otherwise  healthy  young  man 
should  develop  such  lamentable  symptoms. ' ' 

"  Not  at  all,"  said  Mr.  Cabot.  "  It  is 
very  interesting.  Go  on." 

She  felt  annoyed  by  her  father's  calmness. 
Here  was  the  most  extraordinary,  the  most 
marvellous  thing  she  had  ever  encountered, 
and  yet  he  behaved  as  if  it  were  a  common- 
place experience  of  every-day  life.  And  he 
must  know  that  Amos  was  telling  the  truth  ! 
But  Amos  himself  showed  no  signs  of  annoy- 
ance. 

"  As  I  grew  older  and  discovered  gradu- 
ally that  none  of  my  friends  had  this  faculty, 
and  that  people  looked  upon  it  as  something 
uncanny  and  supernatural,  I  learned  to  keep 
it  to  myself.  I  became  almost  ashamed  of 
the  faculty  and  tried  by  disuse  to  outgrow  it, 
but  such  a  power  is  too  useful  a  thing  to  ig- 
nore altogether,  and  there  are  times  when  the 
temptation  is  hard  to  resist.  That  was  the 


102  AMOS  JUDD 

case  this  afternoon.  I  expected  a  friend  who 
was  to  telegraph  me  if  unable  to  come,  and  at 
half-past  two  no  message  had  arrived :  but 
being  familiar  with  the  customs  of  the  Dale- 
ford  office  I  knew  there  might  be  a  dozen 
telegrams  and  I  get  none  the  wiser.  So, 
not  wishing  to  drive  twelve  miles  for  nothing 
in  such  a  storm,  I  yielded  to  the  old  tempta- 
tion and  put  myself  ahead — in  spirit  of  course 
— and  saw  the  train  as  it  arrived.  You  can 
imagine  my  surprise  when  the  first  person 
to  get  off  was  Miss  Molly  Cabot. ' ' 

Her  eyes  were  glowing  with  excitement. 
Repressing  an  exclamation  of  wonder,  she 
turned  toward  her  father  and  was  astonished, 
and  gently  indignant,  to  find  him  in  the 
placid  enjoyment  of  his  cigar,  showing  no 
surprise.  Then  she  asked  of  Amos,  almost 
in  a  whisper,  for  her  throat  seemed  very 
dry,  "  What  time  was  it  when  you  saw 
this?" 

"  About  half-past  two." 

"  And  the  train  got  in  at  four." 

"  Yes,  about  four." 

"  You  saw  what  occurred  on  the  platform 
as  if  you  were  there  in  person  ?  ' '  Mr.  Cabot 
inquired. 

"Yes,  sir.     The   conductor   helped    her 


AMOS  JUDD  103 

out  and  she  started  to  run  into  the  station  to 
get  out  of  the  rain." 

"  Yes,  yes  !  "  from  Molly. 

"  But  the  wind  twisted  you  about  and 
blew  you  against  him.  And  you  both  stuck 
there  for  a  second. ' ' 

She  laughed  nervously  :  ' l  Yes,  that  is 
just  what  happened  !  ' ' 

"  But  I  am  surprised,  Amos,"  put  in  Mr. 
Cabot,  "  that  you  should  have  had  so  little 
sympathy  for  a  tempest-tossed  lady  as  to  fail 
to  observe  there  was  no  carnage." 

"  I  took  it  for  granted  you  had  sent  for 
her." 

"  But  you  saw  there  was  none  at  the  sta- 
tion." 

"  There  might  have  been  several  and  I 
not  see  them." 

"  Then  your  vision  was  limited  to  a  cer- 
tain spot?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,  in  a  way,  for  I  could  only  see 
as  if  I  were  there  in  person,  and  I  did  not 
move  around  to  the  other  side  of  the  sta- 
tion." 

"  Didn't  you  take  notice  as  you  ap- 
proached ?  ' ' 

Amos  drew  a  hand  up  the  back  of  his 
head  and  hesitated  before  answering.  "  I 


104  AMOS  JUDD 

closed  my  eyes  at  home  with  a  wish  to  be  at 
the  station  as  the  train  came  in,  and  I  found 
myself  there  without  approaching  it  from  any 
particular  direction. ' ' 

"  And  if  you  had  looked  down  the  road," 
Mr.  Cabot  continued,  after  a  pause,  "you 
would  have  seen  yourself  approaching  in  a 
buggy?" 

"  Yes,  probably." 

"  And  from  the  buggy  you  might  almost 
have  seen  what  you  have  just  described." 
This  was  said  so  calmly  and  pleasantly  that 
Molly,  for  an  instant,  did  not  catch  its  full 
meaning ;  then  her  eyes,  in  disappointment, 
turned  to  Amos.  She  thought  there  was  a 
flush  on  the  dark  face,  and  something  re- 
sembling anger  as  the  eyes  turned  toward 
her  father.  But  Mr.  Cabot  was  watching 
the  smoke  as  it  curled  from  his  lips.  After 
a  very  short  pause  Amos  said,  quietly,  "  It 
had  not  occurred  to  me  that  my  statement 
could  place  me  in  such  an  unfortunate  posi- 
tion." 

"  Not  at  all  unfortunate,"  and  Mr.  Cabot 
raised  a  hand  in  protest.  "  I  know  you  too 
well,  Amos,  to  doubt  your  sincerity.  The 
worst  I  can  possibly  believe  is  that  you 
yourself  are  misled :  that  you  are  perhaps 


AMOS  JUDD  105 

attaching  a  false  significance  to  a  series  of 
events  that  might  be  explained  in  another 
way. ' ' 

Amos  arose  and  stood  facing  them  with 
his  back  against  the  mantel.  "  You  are 
much  too  clever  for  me,  Mr.  Cabot.  I 
hardly  thought  you  could  accept  this  ex- 
planation, but  I  have  told  you  nothing  but 
the  truth." 

"  My  dear  boy,  do  not  think  for  a  mo- 
ment that  I  doubt  your  honesty.  Older 
men  than  you,  and  harder-headed  ones, 
have  digested  more  incredible  things.  In 
telling  your  story  you  ask  me  to  believe  what 
I  consider  impossible.  There  is  no  well- 
authenticated  case  on  record  of  such  a 
faculty.  It  would  interfere  with  the  work- 
ings of  nature.  Future  events  could  not  ar- 
range themselves  with  any  confidence  in 
your  vicinity,  and  all  history  that  is  to  come, 
and  even  the  elements,  would  be  compelled 
to  adjust  themselves  according  to  your  pre- 
dictions." 

"But,  papa,  you  yourself  had  positive 
evidence  that  he  knew  of  my  coming  two 
hours  before  I  came.  How  do  you  explain 
that?" 

"  I  do  not  pretend  to  explain  it,  and  I 


io6  AMOS  JUDD 

will  not  infuriate  Amos  by  calling  it  a  good 
guess,  or  a  startling  coincidence. ' ' 

Amos  smiled.  "  Oh,  call  it  what  you 
please,  Mr.  Cabot.  But  it  seems  to  me  that 
the  fact  of  these  things  invariably  coming 
true  ought  to  count  for  something,  even  with 
the  legal  mind." 

"  You  say  there  has  never  been  a  single 
case  in  which  your  prophecy  has  failed  ?  ' ' 

"  Not  one." 

"  Suppose,  just  for  illustration,  that  you 
should  look  ahead  and  see  yourself  in  church 
next  Sunday  standing  on  your  head  in  the 
aisle,  and  suppose  you  had  a  serious  unwil- 
lingness to  perform  the  act.  Would  you 
still  go  to  church  and  do  it  ?  " 

"  I  should  go  to  church  and  do  it." 

"  Out  of  respect  for  the  prophecy  ?  " 

"  No,  because  I  could  not  prevent  it." 

•"  Have  you  often  resisted  ?  " 

"  Not  very  often,  but  enough  to  learn  the 
lesson." 

"  And  you  have  always  fulfilled  the 
prophecy  ?  ' ' 

"Always." 

There  was  a  short  silence  during  which 
Molly  kept  her  eyes  on  her  work,  while 
Amos  stood  silently  beside  the  fire  as  if 


AMOS  JUDD  107 

there  was  nothing  more  to  be  said.  Finally 
Mr.  Cabot  knocked  the  ashes  from  his  cigar 
and  asked,  with  his  pleasantest  smile,  "  Do 
you  think  if  one  of  these  scenes  involved  the 
actions  of  another  person  than  yourself,  that 
person  would  also  carry  it  out  ?  ' ' 

"  I  think  so." 

"  That  if  you  told  me,  for  instance,  of 
something  I  should  do  to-morrow  at  twelve 
o'clock,  I  should  do  it  ?  " 

"  I  think  so." 

"  Well,  what  am  I  going  to  do  to-mor- 
row at  noon,  as  the  clock  strikes  twelve?  " 

"  Give  me  five  minutes,"  and  with  closed 
eyes  and  head  slightly  inclined,  the  young 
man  remained  leaning  against  the  mantel 
without  changing  his  position.  It  seemed  a 
long  five  minutes.  Outside,  the  tempest 
beat  viciously  against  the  windows,  then 
with  mocking  shrieks  whirled  away  into 
the  night.  To  Molly's  excited  fancy  the 
echoing  chimney  was  alive  with  the  mutter- 
ings  of  unearthly  voices.  Although  in  her 
father's  judgment  she  placed  a  perfect  trust, 
there  still  remained  a  lingering  faith  in  this 
supernatural  power,  whatever  it  was ;  but 
she  knew  it  to  be  a  faith  her  reason  might 
not  support.  As  for  Amos,  he  was  certain- 


io8  AMOS  JUDD 

ly  an  interesting  figure  as  he  stood  before 
them,  and  nothing  could  be  easier  at  such 
a  moment  than  for  an  imaginative  girl  to 
invest  him  with  mystic  attributes.  Al- 
though outwardly  American  so  far  as  rai- 
ment, the  cut  of  his  hair,  and  his  own 
efforts  could  produce  that  impression,  he 
remained,  nevertheless,  distinctly  oriental. 
The  dark  skin,  the  long,  black,  clearly 
marked  eyebrows,  the  singular  beauty  of  his 
features,  almost  feminine  in  their  refinement, 
betrayed  a  race  whose  origin  and  traditions 
were  far  removed  from  his  present  surround- 
ings. She  was  struck  by  the  little  scar  upon 
his  forehead,  which  seemed,  of  a  sudden,  to 
glow  and  be  alive,  as  if  catching  some  re- 
flection from  the  firelight.  While  her  eyes 
were  upon  it,  the  fire  blazed  up  in  a  dying 
effort,  and  went  out ;  but  the  little  scar  re- 
mained a  luminous  spot  with  a  faint  light 
of  its  own.  She  drew  her  hand  across  her 
brow  to  brush  away  the  illusion,  and  as  she 
again  looked  toward  him  he  opened  his 
eyes  and  raised  his  head.  Then  he  said  to 
her  father,  slowly,  as  if  from  a  desire  to 
make  no  mistake  : 

"To-morrow  you  will   be  standing   in 
front  of  the  Unitarian  Church,  looking  up  at 


AMOS  JUDD  109 

the  clock  on  the  steeple  as  it  strikes  twelve. 
Then  you  will  walk  along  by  the  Common 
until  you  are  opposite  Caleb  Farnum's, 
cross  the  street,  and  knock  at  his  door.  Mrs. 
Farnum  will  open  it.  She  will  show  you 
into  the  parlor,  the  room  on  the  right, 
where  you  will  sit  down  in  a  rocking-chair 
and  wait.  I  left  you  there,  but  can  tell  you 
the  rest  if  you  choose  to  give  the  time. ' ' 

Molly  glanced  at  her  father  and  was  sur- 
prised by  his  expression.  Bending  forward, 
his  eyes  fixed  upon  Amos  with  a  look  of  the 
deepest  interest,  he  made  no  effort  to  con- 
ceal his  astonishment.  He  leaned  back  in 
the  chair,  however,  and  resuming  his  old  at- 
titude, said,  quietly  : 

"  That  is  precisely  what  I  intended  to  do 
to-morrow,  and  at  twelve  o'clock,  as  I  knew 
he  would  be  at  home  for  his  dinner.  Is  it 
possible  that  a  wholesome,  out  -  of  -  doors 
young  chap  like  you  can  be  something  of  a 
mind -reader  and  not  know  it  ?  " 

"  No,  sir.     I  have  no  such  talent." 

' '  Are  you  sure  ?  ' ' 

' '  Absolutely  sure.  It  happens  that  you 
already  intended  to  do  the  thing  mentioned, 
but  that  was  merely  a  coincidence." 

For  a  moment  or  two  there  was  a  silence, 


no  AMOS  JUDD 

during  which  Mr.  Cabot  seemed  more  in- 
terested in  the  appearance  of  his  cigar  than 
in  the  previous  conversation.  At  last  he 
said  : 

' '  I  understand  you  to  say  these  scenes,  or 
prophecies,  or  whatever  you  call  them,  have 
never  failed  of  coming  true.  Now,  if  I 
wilfully  refrain  from  calling  on  Mr.  Farnum 
to-morrow  it  will  have  a  tendency  to  prove, 
will  it  not,  that  your  system  is  fallible  ?  " 

"  I  suppose  so." 

"  And  if  you  can  catch  it  in  several  such 
errors  you  might  in  time  lose  confidence  in 
it?" 

"  Very  likely,  but  I  think  it  will  never 
happen.  At  least,  not  in  such  a  way." 

"  Just  leave  that  to  me,"  and  Mr.  Cabot 
rose  from  his  seat  and  stood  beside  him  in 
front  of  the  fire.  "  The  only  mystery,  in 
my  opinion,  is  a  vivid  imagination  that 
sometimes  gets  the  better  of  your  facts  ;  or 
rather  combines  with  your  facts  and  gets  the 
better  of  yourself.  These  visions,  however 
real,  are  such  as  come  not  only  to  hosts  of 
children,  but  to  many  older  people  who  are 
highstrung  and  imaginative.  As  for  the 
prophetic  faculty,  don't  let  that  worry  you. 
It  is  a  bump  that  has  not  sprouted  yet  on 


AMOS  JUDD  in 

your  head,  or  on  any  other.  Daniel  and 
Elijah  are  the  only  experts  of  permanent 
standing  in  that  line,  and  even  their  reputa- 
tions are  not  what  they  used  to  be." 

Amos  smiled  and  said  something  about 
not  pretending  to  compete  with  professionals, 
and  the  conversation  turned  to  other  mat- 
ters. After  his  departure,  as  they  went  up- 
stairs, Molly  lingered  in  her  father's  cham- 
ber a  moment  and  asked  if  he  really  thought 
Mr.  Judd  had  seen  from  his  buggy  the  little 
incident  at  the  station  which  he  thought 
had  appeared  to  him  in  his  vision. 

"  It  seems  safe  to  suppose  so,"  he  an- 
swered. "  And  he  could  easily  be  misled 
by  a  little  sequence  of  facts,  fancies,  and 
coincidences  that  happened  to  form  a  har- 
monious whole." 

"  But  in  other  matters  he  seems  so  sensi- 
ble, and  he  certainly,  is  not  easily  deceived." 

"  Yes,  I  know,  but  those  are  often  the 
very  people  who  become  the  readiest  vic- 
tims. Now  Amos,  with  all  his  practical 
common-sense,  I  know  to  be  unusually  ro- 
mantic and  imaginative.  He  loves  the  mys- 
tic and  the  fabulous.  The  other  day  while 
we  were  fishing  together — thank  you,  Maggy 
does  love  a  fresh  place  for  my  slippers  every 


H2  AMOS  JUDD 

night — the  other  day  I  discovered,  from  sev- 
eral things  he  said,  that  he  was  an  out-and- 
out  fatalist.  But  I  think  we  can  weaken  his 
faith  in  all  that.  He  is  too  young  and 
healthy  and  has  too  free  a  mind  to  remain  a 
permanent  dupe. ' ' 


VI 


THE  next  morning  was  clear  and  bright. 
Mr.  Cabot,  absorbed  in  his  work,  spent 
nearly  the  whole  forenoon  among  his  papers, 
and  when  he  saw  Molly  in  her  little  cart 
drive  up  to  the  door  with  a  seamstress  from 
the  village,  he  knew  the  day  was  getting  on. 
Seeing  him  still  at  his  desk  as  she  entered, 
she  bent  over  him  and  put  a  hand  before  his 
eyes.  "  Oh,  crazy  man  !  You  have  no 
idea  what  a  day  it  is,  and  to  waste  it  over 
an  ink-pot  !  Why,  it  is  half- past  eleven, 
and  I  believe  you  have  been  here  ever  since 
I  left.  Stop  that  work  this  minute  and  go 
out  of  doors."  A  cool  cheek  was  laid 
against  his  face  and  the  pen  removed  from 
his  fingers.  "  Now  mind." 

"  Well,  you  are  right.  Let  us  both  take 
a  walk. ' ' 

"  I  wish  I  could,  but  I  must  start  Mrs. 
Turner  on  her  sewing.  Please  go  yourself. 
It  is  a  heavenly  day. ' ' 

As  he  stepped  off  the  piazza  a  few  min- 


H4  AMOS  JUDD 

utes  later,  she  called  out  from  her  chamber 
window,  "  Which  way  are  you  going, 
papa  ? ' ' 

"  To  the  village,  and  I  will  get  the  mail." 
"  Be  sure  and  not  go  to  Mr.  Farnum's." 
"  I  promise,"  and  with  a  smile  he  walked 
away.  Her  enthusiasm  over  the  quality  of 
the  day  he  found  was  not  misplaced.  The 
pure,  fresh  air  brought  a  new  life.  Gigan- 
tic snowy  clouds,  like  the  floating  moun- 
tains of  fairy  land,  moved  majestically 
across  the  heavens,  and  the  distant  hills 
stood  clear  and  sharp  against  the  dazzling 
blue.  The  road  was  muddy,  but  that  was  a 
detail  to  a  lover  of  nature,  and  Mr.  Cabot, 
as  he  strode  rapidly  toward  the  village,  ex- 
perienced an  elasticity  and  exhilaration  that 
recalled  his  younger  days.  He  felt  more 
like  dancing  or  climbing  trees  than  plod- 
ding sedately  along  a  turnpike.  With  a 
quick,  youthful  step  he  ascended  the  gentle 
incline  that  led  to  the  Common,  and  if  a 
stranger  had  been  called  upon  to  guess  at 
the  gentleman's  age  as  he  walked  jauntily 
into  the  village  with  head  erect,  swinging 
his  cane,  he  would  more  likely  have  said 
thirty  years  than  sixty.  And  if  the  stranger 
had  watched  him  for  another  three  minutes 


AMOS  JUDD  115 

he  would  have  modified  his  guess,  and  not 
only  have  given  him  credit  for  his  full  age, 
but  might  have  suspected  either  an  excessive 
fatigue  or  a  mild  intemperance.  For  Mr. 
Cabot,  during  his  short  walk  through  Dale- 
ford  Village,  experienced  a  series  of  sensa- 
tions so  novel  and  so  crushing  that  he  never, 
in  his  inner  self,  recovered  completely  from 
the  shock. 

Instead  of  keeping  along  the  sidewalk  to 
the  right  and  going  to  the  post-office  accord- 
ing to  his  custom,  he  crossed  the  muddy 
road  and  took  the  gravel  walk  that  skirted 
the  Common.  It  seemed  a  natural  course, 
and  he  failed  to  realize,  until  he  had  done 
it,  that  he  was  going  out  of  his  way.  Now 
he  must  cross  the  road  again  when  opposite 
the  store.  When  opposite  the  store,  how- 
ever, instead  of  crossing  over  he  kept  along 
as  he  had  started.  Then  he  stopped,  as  if 
to  turn,  but  his  hesitation  was  for  a  second 
only.  Again  he  went  ahead,  along  the  same 
path,  by  the  side  of  the  Common.  It  was 
then  that  Mr.  Cabot  felt  a  mild  but  un- 
pleasant thrill  creep  upward  along  his  spine 
and  through  his  hair.  This  was  caused  by  an 
unpleasant  suspicion  that  his  movements  were 
not  in  obedience  to  his  own  will.  A  mo- 


n6  AMOS  JUDD 

ment  later  it  became  a  conviction.  This 
consciousness  brought  the  cold  sweat  to  his 
brow,  but  he  was  too  strong  a  man,  too 
clear-headed  and  determined,  to  lose  his 
bearings  without  a  struggle  or  without  a  def- 
inite reason.  With  all  the  force  of  his  nat- 
ure he  stopped  once  more  to  decide  it,  then 
and  there :  and  again  he  started  forward. 
An  indefinable,  all-pervading  force,  gentle 
but  immeasurably  stronger  than  himself,  was 
exerting  an  intangible  pressure,  and  never  in 
his  recollection  had  he  felt  so  powerless,  so 
weak,  so  completely  at  the  mercy  of  some- 
thing that  was  no  part  of  himself;  yet,  while 
amazed  and  impressed  beyond  his  own  be- 
lief, he  suffered  no  obscurity  of  intellect. 
The  first  surprise  over,  he  was  more  puzzled 
than  terrified,  more  irritated  than  resigned. 
For  nearly  a  hundred  yards  he  walked  on, 
impelled  by  he  knew  not  what ;  then,  with 
deliberate  resolution,  he  stopped,  clutched 
the  wooden  railing  at  his.  side,  and  held  it 
with  an  iron  grip.  As  he  did  so,  the  clock 
in  the  belfry  of  the  Unitarian  Church  across 
the  road  began  striking  twelve.  He  raised 
his  eyes,  and,  recalling  the  prophecy  of 
Amos,  he  bit  his  lip,  and  his  head  reeled 
as  in  a  dream.  "  To-morrow,  as  the  clock 


AMOS  JUDD  117 

strikes  twelve,  you  will  be  standing  in  front 
of  the  Unitarian  Church,  looking  up  at  it." 
Each  stroke  of  the  bell — and  no  bell  ever 
sounded  so  loud — vibrated  through  every 
nerve  of  his  being.  It  was  harsh,  exultant, 
almost  threatening,  and  his  brain  in  a  numb, 
dull  way  seemed  to  quiver  beneath  the  blows. 
Yet,  up  there,  about  the  white  belfry,  pig- 
eons strutted  along  the  moulding,  cooing, 
quarrelsome,  and  important,  like  any  other 
pigeons.  And  the  sunlight  was  even  bright- 
er than  usual ;  the  sky  bluer  and  more 
dazzling.  The  tall  spire,  from  the  moving 
clouds  behind  it,  seemed  like  a  huge  ship, 
sailing  forward  and  upward  as  if  he  and  it 
were  floating  to  a  different  world. 

Still  holding  fast  to  the  fence,  he  drew  the 
other  hand  sharply  across  his  eyes  to  rally 
his  wavering  senses.  The  big  elms  towered 
serenely  above  him,  their  leaves  rustling  like 
a  countless  chorus  in  the  summer  breeze. 
Opposite,  the  row  of  old-fashioned  New  Eng- 
land houses  stood  calmly  in  their  places, 
self-possessed,  with  no  signs  of  agitation. 
The  world,  to  their  knowledge,  had  under- 
gone no  sudden  changes  within  the  last  five 
minutes.  It  must  have  been  a  delusion  : 
a  little  collapse  of  his  nerves,  perhaps.  So 


n8  AMOS  JUDD 

many  things  can  affect  the  brain  :  any  doc- 
tor could  easily  explain  it.  He  would  rest 
a  minute,  then  return. 

As  he  made  this  resolve  his  left  hand,  like 
a  treacherous  servant,  quietly  relaxed  its 
hold  and  he  started  off,  not  toward  his 
home,  but  forward,  continuing  his  journey. 
He  now  realized  that  the  force  which  im- 
pelled him,  although  gentle  and  seemingly 
not  hostile  in  purpose,  was  so  much  stronger 
than  himself  that  resistance  was  useless. 
During  the  next  three  minutes,  as  he  walked 
mechanically  along  the  sidewalk  by  the 
Common,  his  brain  was  nervously  active  in 
an  effort  to  arrive  at  some  solution  of  this 
erratic  business  ;  some  sensible  solution  that 
was  based  either  on  science  or  on  common 
sense.  But  that  solace  was  denied  him. 
The  more  he  thought  the  less  he  knew.  No 
previous  experience  of  his  own,  and  no  au- 
thenticated experience  of  anyone  else,  at 
least  of  which  he  had  ever  heard,  could  he 
summon  to  assist  him.  When  opposite  the 
house  of  Silas  Farnum  he  turned  and  left  the 
sidewalk,  and  noticed,  with  an  irresponsible 
interest  as  he  crossed  the  road,  that  with  no 
care  of  his  own  he  avoided  the  puddles  and 
selected  for  his  feet  the  drier  places.  This 


AMOS  JUDD  119 

was  another  surprise,  for  he  took  no  thought 
of  his  steps  \  and  the  discovery  added  to  the 
overwhelming  sense  of  helplessness  that  was 
taking  possession  of  him.  With  no  volition 
of  his  own  he  also  avoided  the  wet  grass  be- 
tween the  road  and  the  gravel  walk.  He 
next  found  himself  in  front  of  Silas  Farnum's 
gate  and  his  hand  reached  forth  to  open  it. 
It  wras  another  mild  surprise  when  this  hand, 
like  a  conscious  thing,  tried  the  wrong  side 
of  the  little  gate,  then  felt  about  for  the  latch. 
The  legs  over  which  he  had  ceased  to  have 
direction,  carried  him  along  the  narrow  brick 
walk,  and  one  of  them  lifted  him  upon  the 
granite  doorstep. 

Once  more  he  resolved,  calmly  and  with 
a  serious  determination,  that  this  humili- 
ating comedy  should  go  no  farther.  He 
would  turn  about  and  go  home  without  en- 
tering the  house.  It  would  be  well  for  Amos 
to  know  that  an  old  lawyer  of  sixty  was  com- 
posed of  different  material  from  the  impres- 
sionable enthusiast  of  twenty-seven.  While 
making  this  resolve  the  soles  of  his  shoes 
were  drawing  themselves  across  the  iron 
scraper  ;  then  he  saw  his  hand  rise  slowly 
toward  the  old-fashioned  knocker  and,  with 
three  taps,  announce  his  presence.  A  huge 


120  AMOS  JUDD 

fly  dozing  on  the  knocker  flew  off  and  lit 
again  upon  the  panel  of  the  door.  As  it  re- 
adjusted its  wings  and  drew  a  pair  of  front 
legs  over  the  top  of  its  head  Mr.  Cabot 
wondered,  if  at  the  creation  of  the  world,  it 
was  fore-ordained  that  this  insect  should  oc- 
cupy that  identical  spot  at  a  specified  mo- 
ment of  a  certain  day,  and  execute  this  triv- 
ial performance.  If  so,  what  a  role  humanity 
was  playing !  The  door  opened  and  Mrs. 
Farnum,  with  a  smiling  face,  stood  before  him. 

"How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Cabot?  Won't 
you  step  in  ?  " 

As  he  opened  his  lips  to  decline,  he  en- 
tered the  little  hallway,  was  shown  into  the 
parlor  and  sat  in  a  horse-hair  rocking-chair, 
in  which  he  waited  for  Mrs.  Farnum  to  call 
her  husband.  When  the  husband  came  Mr. 
Cabot  stated  his  business  and  found  that  he 
was  once  more  dependent  upon  his  own  vo- 
lition. He  could  rise,  walk  to  the  window, 
say  what  he  wished,  and  sit  down  again 
when  he  desired. 

Upon  reaching  home  he  went  directly  to 
his  chamber,  and  was  glad  to  enter  it  with- 
out meeting  his  daughter.  His  reflection 
in  the  mirror  surprised  him,  as  he  expected 
to  find  a  face  thirty  years  older  than  when  it 


AMOS  JUDD  121 

started  for  the  village.  But  there  were  no 
outward  traces  of  the  recent  struggle.  It 
was  the  same  face,  calm,  firm,  and  as  self- 
reliant  as  ever.  This  was  reassuring  and  did 
much  toward  a  return  of  confidence.  He 
threw  himself  upon  the  bed,  and  as  he  lay 
there  he  heard  through  the  open  window  the 
voices  of  Molly  and  Amos  in  the  old-fash- 
ioned garden.  They  seemed  very  jolly  and 
happy,  and  Molly's  laughter  came  like  music 
to  his  ears;  but  her  companion,  although 
amusing  and  full  of  fun,  seemed  to  do  none 
of  the  laughing ;  and  then  it  came  upon 
him  that  in  all  his  intercourse  with  Amos  he 
had  never  heard  him  laugh.  Ever  ready 
to  smile,  and  often  irresistible  in  his  high 
spirits,  yet  he  never  laughed  aloud.  And 
the  deep  melancholy  of  his  face  when  in  re- 
pose— was  that  a  result  of  fulfilling  prophe- 
cies ?  Were  there  solemn  secrets  behind 
that  boyish  face  ? 

The  perfume  of  the  flowers  stole  in 
through  the  closed  blinds,  and  he  could  hear 
the  buzzing  of  a  bee  outside  the  window,  min- 
gling with  the  voices  in  the  garden.  These 
voices  became  lower,  the  subject  of  conversa- 
tion having  changed — perhaps  to  something 
more  serious — and  Mr.  Cabot  took  a  nap. 


VII 

"  DID  you  go  to  Silas  Farnum's?  "  was 
Molly's  first  question,  and  her  father  confessed 
having  done  precisely  as  Amos  had  pre- 
dicted ;  but  while  giving  a  truthful  account 
of  his  experience,  told  the  story  in  a  half- 
jesting  manner,  attributing  his  compulsory 
visit  to  some  hypnotic  influence,  and  to  a 
temporary  irresponsibility  of  his  own.  His 
daughter,  however,  was  not  deceived.  Her 
belief  in  a  supernatural  agency  renewed  its 
strength. 

As  for  her  father,  he  had  never  been  more 
at  sea  in  the  solution  of  a  problem.  In  his 
own  mind  the  only  explanation  was  by  the 
dominance  of  another  mind  over  his  own, 
by  a  force  presumably  mesmeric.  The  fact 
that  Amos  himself  was  also  a  victim  rendered 
that  theory  difficult  to  accept,  unless  both 
wrere  dupes  of  some  third  person.  If  at  the 
time  of  his  visit  to  Silas  Farnum  he  had  been 
ill,  or  weak,  or  in  a  nervous  condition,  or 


AMOS  JUDD  123 

had  it  occurred  at  night  when  the  imagina- 
tion might  get  the  better  of  one's  judgment, 
there  would  have  been  the  possibility  of  an 
explanation  on  physical  grounds.  But  that 
he,  James  Cabot,  of  good  health  and  strength, 
should,  in  the  sunlight  of  a  summer  noon, 
be  the  powerless  victim  of  such  an  influence, 
was  a  theory  so  mortifying  and  preposterous 
as  to  upset  his  usual  processes  of  reason. 

It  was  not  until  the  next  afternoon  that 
an  opportunity  was  given  for  a  word  with 
Amos.  Out  on  the  grass,  in  a  bamboo  chair, 
beneath  a  huge  elm  at  the  easterly  corner  of 
the  house,  Mr.  Cabot  was  reclining  with  his 
paper,  when  he  noticed  his  young  friend  can- 
tering briskly  along  the  road  on  a  chestnut 
horse.  Amos  saw  him,  turned  his  horse  to- 
ward the  low  stone  wall  that  separated  the 
Cabot's  field  from  the  highway,  cleared  it 
with  an  easy  jump  and  came  cantering  over 
the  grass. 

"  Is  that  old  Betty  ?  I  didn't  know  she 
was  a  jumper. ' ' 

"Oh,  yes.  She  has  a  record."  Dis- 
mounting, he  faced  her  about  and,  with  a  tap 
on  the  flank,  told  her  to  go  home.  She  re- 
turned, however,  and  showed  a  desire  to  rub 
noses  with  him.  "  Well,  have  your  way, 


124  AMOS  JUDD 

old  lady/'  and  leaving  her  to  a  feast  of  clover 
he  threw  himself  on  the  ground  at  Mr. 
Cabot's  feet. 

"  You  are  a  kind  man  to  your  animals, 
Amos,  although  you  may  be  somewhat  offen- 
sive as  a  prophet. ' ' 

"  So  you  went,  after  all  ?  " 

"  Went  where?  " 

"  To  see  Silas  Farnum." 

"Did  I  say  that?" 

Amos  looked  up  with  a  smile  that  could 
have  a  dozen  meanings.  His  wily  compan- 
ion, from  a  sense  of  professional  caution, 
wished  to  feel  his  way  before  committing 
himself. 

"  You  think  I  went,  after  all  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,  I  know  you  did,  from  my  own 
experience. ' ' 

"  Which  is  that  the  events  inevitably  oc- 
cur as  foreseen  ?  ' ' 

"  Always." 

"  Well,  I  will  make  a  clean  breast  of  it  and 
tell  you  just  what  happened. ' ' 

"  I  know  it  already,  Mr.  Cabot,  as  well  as 
if  you  had  told  me. " 

"  Do  you  know  of  my  resolve  not  to  do 
it  ?  Of  my  ineffectual  resistance  and  the 
sensations  I  experienced  ?  ' ' 


AMOS  JUDD  125 

"I  think  so.  I  have  been  through  it  all 
myself." 

For  a  minute  or  two  neither  spoke.  Amos, 
resting  upon  an  elbow,  his  cheek  against  the 
palm  of  one  hand,  was,  with  the  other,  de- 
ceiving a  very  small  caterpillar  into  useless 
marches  from  one  end  of  a  blade  of  grass  to 
the  other.  Mr.  Cabot,  in  a  more  serious 
tone,  continued  :  "  Tell  me  once  more, 
Amos,  on  your  honor,  that  as  far  as  you 
know  there  was  no  attempt  on  your  part,  or 
on  the  part  of  any  other  person,  to  influence 
me  upon  that  occasion." 

Amos  tossed  aside  the  blade  of  grass  and 
sat  up.  "  I  give  you  my  word,  sir,  that  so 
far  as  I  know  there  is  nothing  in  it  of  that 
nature.  I  am  just  as  helpless  as  you  when  it 
comes  to  any  attempt  at  resistance. ' ' 

"  Then  how  do  you  account  for  it  ?  " 

Amos  had  plucked  a  longer  blade  of  grass, 
and  was  winding  it  about  his  fingers.  "  My 
explanation  may  seem  childish  to  you,  but  I 
have  no  better  one  to  offer.  It  is  simply 
that  certain  events  are  destined  to  occur  at 
appointed  times,  and  that  my  knowing  it  in 
advance  is  not  allowed  to  interfere  with  the 
natural  order  of  things." 

"The  evidence  may  seem  to  point  that 


126  AMOS  JUDD 

way,  judging  from  my  own  experience,  but 
can  you  believe  that  the  whole  human  race 
are  carrying  out  such  a  cut-and -dried  scheme  ? 
According  to  that  theory  we  are  merely  me- 
chanical dummies,  irresponsible  and  helpless, 
like  cogs  in  a  wheel." 

11  No,  sir,  we  are  at  liberty  to  do  just 
as  we  please.  It  was  your  own  idea  going 
to  Silas  Farnum's.  That  you  happened  to 
be  told  of  it  in  advance  created  an  artificial 
condition,  otherwise  you  would  have  gone 
there  in  peace  and  happiness.  In  other 
words,  it  was  ordained  that  you  should  de- 
sire to  do  that  thing,  and  you  were  to  do  as 
you  desired. " 

The  lawyer  remained  silent  a  moment,  his 
face  giving  no  indication  either  of  belief  or 
denial. 

' '  Have  you  never  been  able  to  prevent  or 
even  modify  the  fulfilment  of  an  act  after 
having  seen  it  in  advance?  " 

"  No,  sir  ;  never." 

"Then  these  scenes  as  presented  to  you 
are  invariably  correct,  without  the  slightest 
change  ? ' ' 

"Yes." 

Mr.  Cabot  looked  down  at  his  friend  with 
a  feeling  that  was  not  without  a  touch  of 


AMOS  JUDD  127 

awe.  Of  the  young  man's  honesty  he  had 
not  the  slightest  doubt,  and  his  own  recent 
experience  seemed  but  one  more  proof  of 
the  correctness  of  his  facts.  He  looked  with 
a  curious  interest  upon  this  mysterious  yet 
simple  Oriental  squatting  idly  on  the  grass, 
his  straw  hat  tilted  back  on  his  head,  the 
dark  face  bent  forward,  as  with  careful  fingers 
he  gathered  a  bunch  of  clover. 

"If  this  faculty  never  fails  you  your 
knowledge  of  future  events  is  simply  without 
limit.  You  can  tell  about  the  weather,  the 
crops,  the  stock  market,  the  result  of  wars, 
marriages,  births,  and  deaths,  and  who  the 
next  president  is  to  be." 

"  Yes,  sir,"  he  answered  quietly,  without 
looking  up. 

Mr.  Cabot  straightened  up  in  his  chair  and 
rubbed  his  chin.  His  credulity  had  reached 
its  limit,  yet,  if  he  could  judge  by  the  evi- 
dence already  presented,  the  young  man  was 
adhering  strictly  to  the  truth.  There  fol- 
lowed a  silence  during  which  Betty,  who  in 
nibbling  about  had  approached  within  a  few 
feet  of  them,  held  out  her  head,  and  took 
the  clover  from  Amos.  Mr.  Cabot  brought 
a  pencil  and  piece  of  paper  from  his  pockets. 
"  I  would  like  to  try  one  more  experiment, 


128  AMOS  JUDD 

with  your  permission.  Will  you  write  on 
that  paper  what  I  am  to  do  at — well,  say  ten 
o'clock  to-night  ?  " 

Amos  took  the  paper  and  closed  his  eyes, 
but  in  a  moment  looked  up  and  said,  "  You 
are  in  the  dark  and  I  can  see  nothing. ' ' 

"  Then  you  have  no  knowledge  of  what 
goes  on  in  the  dark  ?  ' ' 

*  '  No,  sir  ;  only  of  things  that  I  can  see. 
If  there  is  any  light  at  all  I  can  see  as  if  I 
were  there  in  person,  but  no  better.  To- 
night at  ten  o'clock  you  are  in  your  own 
chamber,  and  it  is  absolutely  black." 

"  Then  change  the  hour  to  six  o'clock." 

As  Mr.  Cabot,  a  moment  later,  turned  a 
sidelong  glance  toward  his  friend,  sitting 
with  closed  eyes  before  him,  he  thought  the 
little  mark  upon  his  forehead  had  never 
been  so  distinct.  He  regarded  it  with  a  mild 
surprise  as  it  seemed  almost  aglow ;  but  the 
sky  was  becoming  rosy  in  the  west,  and 
there  might  be  a  reflection  from  the  setting 
sun.  Amos  wrote  something  on  a  slip  of 
paper,  folded  it  up  and  returned  it  to  Mr. 
Cabot,  who  carefully  tucked  it  away  in  a 
pocket  saying,  "  I  shall  not  read  it  until  six- 
thirty.  I  will  tell  you  to-morrow  if  you  are 
correct. '  * 


AMOS  JUDD  129 

"  Oh,  that  is  correct,  sir  !  You  need  have 
no  anxiety  on  that  point." 

As  he  spoke  there  passed  slowly  along  the 
road  a  cart  containing  two  men,  and  behind 
the  cart,  securely  fastened,  walked  a  heavy, 
vicious-looking  bull. 

"  That  is  an  ugly  brute,"  he  said. 

"  So  I  was  just  thinking.  Does  he  belong 
in  the  town  ? ' ' 

"  Yes  ;  it  is  Barnard's  bull.  Yesterday  he 
got  loose  and  so  mutilated  a  horse  that  it  had  to 
be  shot ;  and  within  an  hour  he  tried  his  best 
to  kill  old  Barnard  himself,  which  was  a  good 
undertaking  and  showed  public  spirit.  He  is 
sure  to  have  a  victim  sooner  or  later,  and  it 
certainly  ought  to  be  old  Barnard  if  anybody. ' ' 

"Who  is  Barnard?  " 

"  He  is  the  oyster-eyed,  malignant  old 
liar  and  skinflint,  who  lives  in  that  red 
house  about  a  mile  below  here. ' ' 

1  i  You  seem  to  like  him. " 

"  I  hate  him." 

' '  What  has  he  done  to  you  ?  ' ' 

"  Nothing  ;  but  he  bullies  his  wife,  starves 
his  cattle,  and  cheats  his  neighbors.  Even 
as  a  small  boy  I  knew  enough  to  dislike 
him,  and  whenever  he  went  by  the  house  I 
used  to  stone  him." 
9 


130  AMOS  JUDD 

"  What  a  pleasant  little  neighbor  you 
must  have  been  !  ' ' 

Amos  tried  to  smile,  but  his  anger  was 
evidently  too  serious  a  matter  to  be  treated 
with  disrespect.  Mr.  Cabot,  after  regard- 
ing for  a  moment  the  wrathful  eyes  that 
still  followed  the  bull,  continued  : 

"  You  are  more  than  half  barbarian,  my 
warlike  farmer.  Must  you  do  physical  dam- 
age to  everyone  you  dislike  ?  ' ' 

"  No,  sir ;  but  as  a  rule  I  should  like  to. 
As  for  loving  your  enemies — count  me  out. 
I  love  my  friends.  The  man  who  pretends 
to  love  his  enemies  is  either  a  hypocrite  or  a 
poor  hater." 

The  older  man  smiled  at  the  earnestness 
with  which  this  sentence  was  uttered.  "  I 
am  afraid,  Mr.  Amos  Judd,  you  are  not  a 
Christian.  Take  my  advice  and  join  a 
bible  -  class  before  the  devil  gets  his  other 
hand  upon  you." 

After  a  few  words  on  other  matters,  Amos 
called  his  mare,  and  departed. 

As  the  hour  of  six  drew  near,  Mr.  Cabot 
made  a  point  of  realizing  that  he  was  a  free 
agent  and  could  do  whatever  he  wished,  and 
he  resolved  that  no  guess,  based  on  a  proba- 
bility, should  prove  correct.  To  assure  him- 


AMOS  JUDD  131 

self  that  there  was  no  compulsion  or  outside 
influence  of  any  nature,  he  started  first  for 
the  barn  to  execute  a  fantastic  resolve,  then 
as  an  additional  proof  that  he  was  absolutely 
his  own  master,  suddenly  changed  his  mind, 
turned  about,  and  went  upstairs. 

Going  along  a  back  passage  with  no  defi- 
nite intention,  he  paused  at  a  half-open 
door,  looked  in,  and  entered.  The  blinds 
were  closed,  but  between  the  slats  came  bars 
of  light  from  the  western  sun,  illumining 
the  little  room,  an  unused  chamber,  now 
serving  as  a  storehouse  for  such  trunks 
and  sundry  relics  as  had  failed  to  reach  the 
attic.  Mr.  Cabot  noticed  a  rocking-horse 
in  one  corner  and  his  eyes  sparkled  with 
a  new  idea.  After  closing  the  door  he 
dragged  the  steed  from  its  resting-place, 
planted  it  in  the  middle  of  the  floor,  and 
looked  at  his  watch.  It  lacked  four  min- 
utes of  six.  As  he  prepared  to  mount  he 
saw  the  legs  of  a  rag-baby  projecting  over  a 
shelf,  and  pulling  her  down,  could  not  re- 
strain a  smile  as  he  held  her  in  his  arms.  A 
large,  round,  flat,  and  very  pale  but  dirty 
face  was  emphasized  by  fiery  cheeks,  whose 
color,  from  a  want  of  harmony  with  the 
coarse  material  of  her  visage,  had  only  lin- 


132  AMOS  JUDD 

gered  in  erratic  blotches.  With  this  lady  in 
his  arms  he  mounted  the  horse,  and,  while 
gently  rocking  with  both  feet  on  the  ground, 
he  again  took  out  his  watch  and  found  he 
was  just  on  the  minute  of  six  o'clock.  But 
he  kept  his  seat  for  a  moment  longer,  judg- 
ing the  situation  too  good  to  be  trifled  with, 
and  too  unusual  for  any  ordinary  guess. 
Carelessly  he  rocked  a  little  faster,  when  a 
front  foot  of  his  overladen  steed  slipped  from 
its  rocker  and  Mr.  Cabot  nearly  lost  his 
balance.  The  damage,  however,  he  easily 
repaired  ;  the  rag-baby  was  replaced  upon 
her  shelf,  and  when  he  left  the  little  room 
and  returned  to  his  own  chamber  there  was 
an  expression  upon  his  face  that  seemed  in- 
dicative of  an  amiable  triumph.  Some 
minutes  later,  with  a  similar  expression,  he 
took  from  his  pocket  the  slip  of  paper  on 
which  Amos  had  written,  read  it  once  with 
some  haste,  then  a  second  time  and  more 
carefully. 

The  Hon.  James  Cabot,  one  of  the  most  re- 
spected residents  of  Daleford,  attempted  at  six 
o'clock  to  elope  with  an  obscure  maiden  of  the  vil- 
lage. But  his  horse,  an  animal  with  one  glass  eye 
and  no  tail,  broke  down  before  they  had  fairly 
started  and  went  lame  in  his  off  front  foot. 


AMOS  JUDD  133 

For  several  minutes  he  stood  looking  down 
at  the  paper  between  his  fingers,  occasion- 
ally drawing  a  hand  across  his  forehead. 
Then  he  refolded  the  paper  and  placing  it 
in  his  pocket,  took  his  hat  and  went  out  into 
the  orchard,  to  think,  and  to  be  alone. 

On  questioning  Amos  he  found  no  more 
light  was  to  be  expected  from  that  quarter, 
as  the  young  man  had  already  expounded 
his  only  theory,  which  was  that  these  visions 
were  but  optional  warnings  of  the  inevita- 
ble :  that  all  was  fore-ordained :  that  there 
could  be  no  variations  in  the  course  of  Fate. 
His  mind  was  not  philosophical ;  his  pro- 
cesses of  reason  were  simple  and  direct,  and 
he  listened  with  profound  interest  to  Mr. 
Cabot's  deeper  and  more  scientific  attempts 
at  reaching  a  consistent  explanation.  Little 
progress,  however,  was  made  in  this  direc- 
tion, and  the  lawyer  admitted  that  the  evi- 
dence, so  far,  contradicted  in  no  detail  his 
friend's  belief.  He  also  found  that  Amos, 
although  deeply  concerned  in  the  subject 
when  once  opened,  rarely  introduced  it  him- 
self or  referred  to  it  in  any  way  ;  and  that 
he  never  employed  his  power  except  in  the 
rarest  emergencies. 

Moreover,    the    lawyer   understood    how 


134  AMOS  JUDD 

such  a  faculty,  although  of  value  in  certain 
cases,  would,  in  the  great  majority,  be  worse 
than  useless,  while  it  could  not  fail  of  an 
overpowering  influence  on  the  being  who 
employed  it.  He  respected  the  strength  of 
purpose  that  enabled  the  young  man  to  keep 
it  in  the  background,  and  he  felt  that  he  had 
discovered  at  least  one  reason  for  the  restless 
pleasures  of  his  youth.  Now,  happily,  he 
was  securing  a  calmer  and  a  healthier  di- 
version from  a  life  in  the  open  air.  As  his 
neighbor  became  the  object  of  a  deeper 
study  it  was  evident  the  conflicting  quali- 
ties that  seemed  to  give  such  varying  colors 
to  his  character  were  the  result  of  these  ex- 
traordinary conditions.  His  occasional  reck- 
lessness and  indifference  were  now  easily 
explained.  His  disregard  for  religious  ob- 
servances was  in  perfect  harmony  with  an 
insight  into  the  workings  of  a  stupendous 
fate,  immeasurably  above  the  burning  of 
candles  and  the  laws  of  ecclesiastical  etiquette. 
His  love  of  exercise,  of  sunshine,  of  every 
form  of  pleasure  and  excitement,  were  but 
the  means  of  escape  from  the  pursuing  dread 
of  an  awful  knowledge.  And  the  lavish 
generosity  that  often  startled  his  friends  and 
bewildered  Daleford  was  a  trivial  matter  to 


AMOS  JUDD  135 

one  who,  if  he  cared  to  peruse  in  advance 
the  bulletins  of  the  stock  exchange,  could 
double  his  fortune  in  a  day. 

Off  and  on  through  July  and  a  part  of 
August  an  unwonted  animation  prevailed  at 
the  Cabots's,  extending  at  times  along  the 
maples  to  the  other  house.  Certain  visitors 
of  Molly's  were  the  cause  of  this  gayety, 
and  in  their  entertainment  she  found  Amos 
a  helpful  friend.  His  horses,  his  fields,  his 
groves,  his  fruits,  his  flowers,  and  himself, 
were  all  at  her  disposal,  absolutely  and  at 
any  time.  A  few  friends  of  his  own  coming 
at  the  same  period  proved  a  welcome  rein- 
forcement, and  the  leaves  of  the  old  maples 
rustled  with  a  new  surprise  at  the  life  and 
laughter,  the  movement,  the  color,  and  the 
music  that  enlivened  their  restful  shades. 
And  also  at  night,  during  the  warm  even- 
ings when  farmers  were  abed,  the  air  was 
awake  with  melodies  which  floated  off  in  the 
summer  air,  dying  away  among  the  voices 
of  the  frogs  and  turtles  along  the  borders  of 
the  meadow. 

One  warm  afternoon  in  August,  when  there 
were  visitors  at  neither  house,  Amos  and 
Molly  climbed  over  a  wall  into  a  pasture, 
for  a  shorter  cut  toward  home.  The  pasture 


136  AMOS  JUDD 

was  extensive,  and  their  course  lay  diagon- 
ally across  a  long  hill,  beyond  whose  brow 
they  could  see  nothing.  Her  crimson  sun- 
shade and  white  dress  were  in  dazzling  con- 
trast to  the  dull  greens  of  the  pasture,  whose 
prevailing  colors  were  from  rocks  and  with- 
ered grass.  Patches  of  wild  bushes  where 
the  huckleberries  were  in  overwhelming  ma- 
jority necessitated  either  wide  detours  or 
careful  navigating  among  thorns  and  briars. 
Her  companion  seemed  indifferent  to  the 
painful  fact  that  knickerbockers  are  no  pro- 
tection against  these  enemies.  But  pricks 
in  the  leg  at  the  present  moment  were  too 
trivial  for  notice.  He  was  speaking  with 
unusual  earnestness,  keeping  close  at  her  side, 
and  now  and  then  looking  anxiously  into 
her  face.  It  may  have  been  the  heat  and 
the  exercise  that  drove  the  color  to  her 
cheeks,  and  there  were  also  signs  of  annoy- 
ance as  if  she  desired  to  escape  him ;  but 
the  ground  was  uneven,  and  the  stones  and 
bushes  rendered  haste  impossible.  She  also 
appeared  tired,  and  when  they  stopped  at 
intervals  always  turned  away  her  face,  until 
finally,  when  half  across  the  field,  she  sank 
upon  a  rock.  "  I  really  must  rest.  I  am 
dreadfully  warm." 


AMOS  JUDD  137 

He  stood  beside  her,  facing  in  the  same 
direction,  both  looking  over  the  peaceful 
valley  from  which  an  occasional  cow-bell 
was  the  only  sound. 

"It  is  really  a  little  unfair  that  my  old 
record  should  come  between  us.  I  was  only 
twenty  then,  with  no  end  of  money  and  no 
parents  or  guardian  to  look  after  me.  Mr. 
Judd  would  let  me  do  whatever  I  wished, 
and  of  course  I  sailed  ahead  and  did  every- 
thing. Instead  of  having  an  allowance  like 
other  fellows  I  just  asked  for  what  I  wanted, 
and  always  got  it.  And  that  is  death  to  a  boy. ' ' 

He  pulled  a  twig  from  a  bush  and  began 
to  bite  the  end  of  it.  If  at  that  instant  he 
had  glanced  down  at  the  face  beside  him,  he 
might  have  detected  an  expression  that  was 
not  unjustly  severe.  There  was  a  distinct 
ray  of  sympathy  in  the  eyes  that  were  fixed 
thoughtfully  upon  the  valley. 

"And  then  all  the  girls  met  me  more 
than  half-way,  as  if  they,  too,  had  conspired 
against  me." 

This  was  said  in  a  half  resentful,  half 
plaintive  tone,  and  so  delightfully  free  from 
any  boastfulness  that  Molly,  to  conceal  some- 
thing very  near  a  smile,  bent  her  head  and 
picked  nettles  from  her  skirt. 


138  AMOS  JUDD 

.  "  Of  course  I  liked  a  good  time,  there  is 
no  denying  that,  and  I  struck  the  wrong  gang 
at  college.  I  suppose  I  was  weak — everlast- 
ingly and  disgustingly  weak ;  but  really  you 

might  make  allowances,  and  anyway ' ' 

He  stopped  abruptly  and  turned  about. 
Looking  up  she  saw  an  expression  in  his  eyes, 
as  they  gazed  at  something  behind  her,  that 
caused  her  to  spring  to  her  feet  and  also  turn 
about.  As  she  did  so  the  color  left  her  face 
and  her  knees  gave  way  beneath  her.  In- 
stinctively she  clutched  his  arm.  Within 
twenty  yards  of  them  stood  Barnard's  bull, 
and  in  his  broad  black  head  and  cruel  horns, 
in  the  distended  nostrils  and  bloodshot  eye, 
she  read  the  fury  of  an  unreasoning  brute ; 
and  with  it  her  own  death  and  mutilation. 
Helpless  they  stood  in  the  open  pasture  with 
no  tree  or  refuge  near.  Amos  cast  a  swift 
glance  to  the  right,  to  the  left,  and  behind 
them.  The  bull  lowered  his  head  just  a  very 
little,  and  as  he  stepped  slowly  forward  she 
could  hear  his  breath  in  impatient  puffs. 
Her  brain  began  to  swim  and  she  closed  her 
eyes,  but  a  sharp  word  and  a  rough  shake 
brought  her  back  with  a  start. 

"  Do  just  as  I  tell  you.  Turn  and  walk 
slowly  off  to  the  wall  at  the  right.  Then 


AMOS  JUDD  139 

climb  over.  Don't  run  till  I  say  so.  Give 
me  your  parasol. ' ' 

He  twisted  her  about  and  gave  her  a  push. 

"  Don't  look  around." 

Gasping,  faint,  and  so  weak  from  terror 
that  she  could  hardly  direct  her  steps,  she  did 
as  she  was  told.  In  her  dazed  mind  there 
was  no  conception  of  time  or  distance,  but, 
a  moment  after,  hearing  a  snort  from  the  bull 
and  the  quick  pounding  of  his  feet,  she 
stopped  and  turned.  She  expected  to  see 
Amos  on  the  creature's  horns,  but  Amos 
was  running  in  the  other  direction,  so  far 
safe,  although  scarcely  his  own  length  ahead. 
In  an  instant  she  saw  to  her  horror  that,  al- 
though a  nimble  runner,  he  was  losing  dis- 
tance with  every  spring  of  the  bull.  But 
with  a  presence  of  mind  that  did  much 
toward  renewing  her  own  courage,  he  kept 
looking  over  his  shoulder,  and  when  further 
running  was  hopeless,  he  jumped  swiftly  to 
one  side,  the  side  up  the  hill,  and  the  pon- 
derous brute  plunged  on  for  several  feet 
before  he  could  come  to  a  stop.  Amos 
looked  at  once  in  her  direction,  and  when  he 
saw  her  he  shook  his  hand  and  cried,  in  an 
angry  voice : 

"  Run  !  Run  !  Your  life  depends  on  it !  " 


140  AMOS  JUDD 

There  was  no  time  to  say  more,  for  the 
bull  had  wheeled  and  was  again  coming 
toward  him.  Molly  turned  and  ran  as  she 
never  ran  before,  and  never  before  did  so 
many  thoughts  flash  through  her  mind. 
Above  all  came  the  torturing  regret  that  she 
could  be  of  no  possible  service  to  the  man 
who,  at  that  moment  perhaps,  was  giving  up 
his  life  for  hers.  Leaping  rocks,  stumbling 
over  hillocks,  tearing  through  bushes,  she 
finally  reached  the  wall,  scrambled  up  and 
over  as  best  she  could,  then,  with  a  throb- 
bing heart  and  pallid  face,  looked  back  into 
the  field. 

They  were  farther  up  the  hill,  and  Amos 
had  evidently  just  jumped  aside,  for  again 
the  bull  and  he  were  facing  each  other.  The 
animal  was  advancing  slowly  toward  him, 
head  down,  with  an  angry  lashing  of  the 
tail  and  occasional  snorts  that  drove  the  blood 
from  the  spectator's  heart.  As  Amos  retreat- 
ed slowly,  his  face  to  the  animal,  she  saw  him 
look  swiftly  in  her  direction,  then  back  at 
the  bull.  Faster  and  faster  the  animal  came 
toward  him,  and  when  finally  he  bounded 
forward  on  a  run  Amos  turned  and  ran  for 
his  life.  He  was  now  making  for  this  side 
of  the  pasture,  but  she  saw  with  the  keenest 


AMOS  JUDD  141 

anguish  that  all  his  elasticity  had  departed, 
that  he  was  losing  ground  much  faster  than  at 
first.  That  he  should  show  signs  of  exhaus- 
tion caused  her  no  surprise,  for  the  ground 
was  rough,  low  briars  and  bushes  concealing 
rocks  of  treacherous  shapes  and  varying  sizes, 
and  the  race  was  harder  for  the  man  than  for 
the  bull.  The  distance  between  them  was 
being  lessened  with  a  rapidity  that  might 
end  the  struggle  without  a  second's  warn- 
ing, and  the  horns  were  now  within  a 
yard  of  his  heels.  Again  he  jumped  to  one 
side,  but  this  time  it  brought  a  cry  of  agony 
from  beyond  the  wall.  His  foot  slipped, 
and  instead  of  landing  a  yard  or  more  from 
the  creature's  path,  he  measured  his  length 
upon  the  ground.  The  bull  lowered  his 
head  and  plunged  savagely  upon  him.  The 
horns  grazed  the  prostrate  body,  and  the 
heavy  brute,  by  his  own  impetus,  dashed  a 
dozen  yards  beyond.  Amos  raised  first  his 
head  and  shoulders,  then  climbed  to  his  feet, 
slowly,  like  one  bewildered  or  in  pain.  He 
stood  cautiously  upon  his  legs  as  if  uncertain 
of  their  allegiance,  but  he  still  clutched  the 
crimson  sunshade.  The  bull,  with  fiery  nos- 
trils and  bloodshot  eyes,  once  more  came  on, 
and  Amos  started  for  the  wall.  It  was  evi- 


142  AMOS  JUDD 

dent  to  the  one  spectator  that  his  strength 
was  gone.  With  every  jump  of  the  thing 
behind  him  he  was  losing  ground,  and  the 
awful  end  was  near,  and  coming  swiftly.  She 
sank  against  the  wall  and  clutched  it,  for  the 
sky  and  pasture  were  beginning  to  revolve 
before  her  straining  eyes.  But  Amos,  instead 
of  coming  straight  for  the  wall,  bore  down 
the  hill.  With  the  hot  breath  close  upon 
his  heels,  he  opened  the  crimson  sunshade, 
jumped  aside,  and  thrust  it  upon  the  pursu- 
ing horns  :  then  without  looking  back  he 
made  a  bee-line  for  the  wall.  It  was  skil- 
fully done,  and  for  one  precious  moment  the 
seeming  victor  was  delayed  by  goring  the 
infuriating  color  ;  but  only  for  a  moment. 
He  saw  his  enemy  escaping  and  bounded 
in  pursuit.  This  time,  however,  he  missed 
him  by  a  dozen  feet  and  saw  him  vault  the 
barrier  into  safety.  The  wall  he  accepted 
as  a  conclusion,  but  he  stood  close  against 
it,  looking  over  in  sullen  anger,  frothing, 
hot-eyed,  and  out  of  breath. 

Then  he  witnessed  a  scene,  to  him  of  lit- 
tle interest,  but  which  signified  much  to  an- 
other person.  He  saw  the  girl,  anxious, 
pale,  with  disordered  hair,  eagerly  approach 
the  exhausted  runner;  then,  nervously  press- 


AMOS  JUDD  143 

ing  a  hand  to  her  cheek,  she  bent  forward 
and  asked  a  question.  The  young  man, 
who  was  leaning  against  a  tree  and  seemed 
to  have  trouble  with  his  breathing,  suddenly, 
with  a  joyful  face,  stretched  forth  his  hands, 
and  with  even  more  eagerness  than  her  own, 
asked  in  his  turn  a  question,  whereupon  the 
color  rushed  to  her  face.  Looking  down, 
then  up  at  him,  then  down  again,  she  smiled 
and  muttered  something,  and  he,  without 
waiting  for  further  words,  seized  her  in  his 
arms,  and  with  one  hand  holding  her  chin, 
kissed  her  mouth  and  cheeks,  not  once  but 
many  times.  But  she  pushed  away  from 
him,  flushed  and  possibly  angry.  However, 
it  could  not  have  been  a  deep-seated  or  last- 
ing anger,  for  she  created  no  disturbance 
when  he  took  one  of  her  hands  in  both  of  his 
and  made  a  little  speech.  It  appeared  an 
interesting  discourse,  although  she  looked 
down  and  off,  and  all  about,  at  everything 
except  at  him,  smiling  and  changing  color 
all  the  while.  He  seemed  foolishly  happy, 
and  when  a  moment  later  he  wished  to  as- 
sist in  rearranging  her  hair,  he  was  not  de- 
pressed because  the  offer  was  declined  with 
contempt. 

Then  the  young    man    took  a    few   steps 


144  AMOS  JUDD 

toward  the  wall,  and  stood  facing  the 
huge  head  whose  bloodshot  eyes  were  still 
upon  him.  As  he  lifted  his  hand  there  was 
a  hitch  in  the  motion,  and  a  spasm  of 
pain  drew  down  a  corner  of  his  mouth,  but 
the  girl  behind  him  could  not  see  this. 
He  raised  his  cap  and  saluted  his  adver- 
sary. 

"  I  thank  you,  Bull,  for  chasing  me  into 
Molly  Cabot's  heart." 

Then  he  turned,  and  hand  in  hand,  the 
two  people  disappeared  among  the  pines. 


VIII 

ACCORDING  to  habit,  Mr.  Cabot  composed 
himself  by  the  library  table  that  evening 
for  an  hour's  reading  before  going  to  bed, 
but  the  book  was  soon  lifted  from  his  grasp 
and  Molly  seated  herself  in  his  lap.  Al- 
though fingers  were  inserted  between  his 
collar  and  neck  as  a  warning  that  the 
closest  attention  was  expected,  there  fol- 
lowed a  short  silence  before  any  words  were 
uttered.  Then  she  told  him  all :  of  being 
face  to  face  with  Barnard's  bull ;  of  the  nar- 
row escape ;  of  how  Amos  remained  alone 
in  the  open  field,  and  lastly,  she  gave  the 
substance  of  what  the  rescuer  had  said  to  her, 
and  that  she  had  promised  to  be  his  wife. 
But  on  condition  that  her  father  should  con- 
sent. 

He  received  the  news  gravely  ;  confessed 
he  was  not  so  very  much  surprised,  although 
he  had  hoped  it  would  come  a  little  later. 
And  she  was  very  happy  to  find  he  made  no 
objection  to  Amos  as  a  son-in-law,  and  to 
19 


146  AMOS  JUDD 

hear  him  praise  his  character  and  pronounce 
him  an  honest,  manly  fellow.  His  behavior 
with  the  bull  was  heroic,  but  did  not  she 
think  the  reward  he  demanded  was  exorbi- 
tant ?  Was  it  not  a  little  greedy  to  ask  as  a 
price  for  his  services  the  entire  value  of  the 
rescued  property  ?  It  certainly  was  not  cus- 
tomary to  snatch  away  the  object  before 
placing  it  in  the  owner's  hands.  "  But  he 
risked  his  life  to  save  yours,  and  for  that  he 
shall  have  anything  I  own." 

The  following  morning,  as  she  stepped  up- 
on the  piazza,  the  doctor's  buggy  came  down 
the  opposite  avenue  and  turned  toward  the 
village.  Could  old  Mrs.  Judd  be  ill?  or 
was  it  one  of  the  servants  ? 

An  hour  later,  as  there  were  still  no  signs 
of  her  bull-fighter  she  began  to  feel  a  slight 
annoyance.  Perhaps  after  sleeping  upon 
the  events  of  yesterday  his  enthusiasm  had 
cooled.  Perhaps  his  exceptionally  wide  ex- 
perience in  this  field  had  taught  him  that  the 
most  delicate  way  out  of  such  dilemmas  was 
to  give  the  girl  the  initiative,  and  perhaps, 
now  that  he  was  sure  she  loved  him,  all  the 
fun  had  departed.  Perhaps,  in  short,  he 
was  now  realizing  that  he  had  committed 
himself.  Although  none  of  these  suspicions 


AMOS  JUDD  147 

took  a  serious  hold  there  was  a  biting  of  the 
nether  lip  and  a  slight  flush  upon  the  cheeks 
as  she  re-entered  the  house :  and  in  order 
that  he  might  not  suspect,  when  he  did 
come,  that  his  delay  had  caused  the  slightest 
feeling,  or  that  anyone  had  watched  for  him, 
she  returned  to  her  room.  A  few  moments 
later  a  note  was  brought  in  which  was  re- 
ceived with  indifference,  but  which,  after 
Maggie's  departure  she  opened  with  nervous 
fingers. 

MY  GIRL  :  That  bull,  God  bless  him  !  smashed 
two  of  my  ribs,  the  doctor  says,  but  I  know  better. 
They  were  broken  by  an  outward  force,  a  sudden  ex- 
pansion of  the  heart,  and  I  felt  them  going  when 
you  came  into  a  pair  of  arms. 

Please  come  over,  or  I  shall  fly  away,  as  I  feel 
the  sprouting  of  wings,  and  there  is  a  cracking 
among  the  other  ribs. 

AMOS. 

She  went,  and  although  their  conversation 
that  morning  touched  upon  ribs  and  anatomy, 
it  would,  if  taken  as  a  whole,  have  been  of 
little  value  to  a  scientist.  It  was  distinctly 
personal.  The  one  sentiment  which  ap- 
peared to  have  an  irresistible  fascination  for 
the  bull-fighter  and  his  fiancee  colored  all 
remarks,  and  the  fact  that  the  dialogue 


148  AMOS  JUDD 

would  have  caused  them  the  most  intense 
mortification  if  made  public,  tended  in  no 
degree  to  lessen  their  enjoyment.  To  a 
middle-aged  person  who  had  never  been  in 
love  it  would  have  been  unendurable. 

Later  in  the  day  she  intercepted  the  doc- 
tor and  learned  as  much  as  possible  of  the 
patient's  condition.  Two  ribs  were  badly 
broken,  he  said  ;  had  been  pressed  inward  to 
a  serious  extent,  but  so  far  there  were  no  in- 
dications of  internal  injuries.  Of  this,  how- 
ever, he  could  not  at  present  be  absolutely 
sure,  but  he  thought  there  was  no  great  cause 
for  alarm.  The  patient,  of  course,  must  keep 
quiet  for  a  week  or  two. 

Fortunately  for  Amos  there  proved  to  be 
no  injury  save  the  damaged  ribs,  but  three 
long  weeks  elapsed  before  he  was  allowed 
to  go  up  and  down  stairs  and  move  about 
the  house. 

The  last  day  of  August  proved  a  day  of 
discoveries. 

It  was  bright  and  warm,  yet  invigorating, 
the  perfection  of  terrestrial  weather,  and  Mr. 
Cabot  and  Molly,  early  in  the  afternoon, 
were  sitting  upon  the  piazza  discussing  the 
date  of  their  departure,  Amos  occupying 
his  favorite  place  upon  the  floor  in  front  of 


AMOS  JUDD  149 

them,  his  back  against  a  column.  When 
she  informed  her  father  that  additional 
trunks  or  boxes  of  some  kind  would  be 
needed,  Amos  said  that  such  articles  were 
going  to  waste  in  the  Judd  residence,  and 
if  she  would  but  step  across  the  way  and 
select  a  few,  it  would  be  a  lasting  benefit  to 
an  overcrowded  attic.  This  offer  was  ac- 
cepted and  they  started  off.  After  climbing 
the  final  stairs,  which  were  steep  and  narrow, 
Molly  seated  herself  upon  an  old-fashioned 
settle,  the  back  of  which  could  be  lowered 
and  used  as  an  ironing  table.  "  How  I  do 
love  this  smell  of  an  attic  !  Is  it  the  sap 
from  the  hot  pine  ?  And  isn't  there  sage  in 
the  air,  or  summer  savory  ?  ' ' 

"  Both.  With  a  few  old  love-letters  and 
a  touch  of  dried  apples. ' ' 

"  Whatever  it  is,  I  love  it.  The  days  of 
my  childhood  come  galloping  back,"  and 
with  upturned  face  she  closed  her  eyes  and 
drew  a  longer  breath.  He  bent  silently 
over  and  touched  her  lips. 

"  What  a  breach  of  hospitality  !  " 

"  When  a  visitor  insults  a  host  by  sleep- 
ing in  his  presence,  it  is  etiquette  to  awaken 
her.  And  when  lips  with  those  particular 
undulations  look  one  pleasantly  in  the  eye 


150  AMOS  JUDD 

and  say  '  Amos,  kiss  us/  what  do  you  ex- 
pect to  happen  ?  ' ' 

"  From  you  I  expect  the  worst,  the  most 
improper  thing." 

"  And  you  will  always  get  it,  O  spirit  of 
old-fashioned  Roses  !  ' ' 

In  opening  a  window  he  disturbed  an 
enormous  fly,  whose  buzzing  filled  every  cor- 
ner of  the  roof.  "  To  me,"  he  said,  "  this 
atmosphere  recalls  long  marches  and  bat- 
tles, with  splendid  victories  and  awful  de- 
feats. ' ' 

"  I  don't  see  why.  To  me  it  seems  de- 
lightfully restful. " 

From  an  ancient  horse-hair  trunk  he 
brought  forth  a  box,  and  seating  himself  at 
her  feet,  emptied  its  contents  upon  the  floor. 

"  This  is  why,"  and  he  arranged  in  paral- 
lel lines  the  little  leaden  soldiers,  diminutive 
cannons,  some  with  wheels  and  some  with- 
out, and  a  quantity  of  dominos,  two  by 
two.  "  These  are  troops,  and  if  you  care 
to  know  how  I  passed  the  rainy  days  of  boy- 
hood this  will  show  you." 

11  But,  what  are  the  dominos?  " 

"  They  are  the  enemy.  These  lead  sol- 
diers are  mine,  and  they  are  all  veterans, 
and  all  brave.  This  is  myself,"  and  he 


AMOS  JUDD  151 

held  up  a  bent  and  battered  relic  on  a  three- 
legged  horse. 

"  And  who  are  you  in  these  fights, 
Goosey?" 

"  Napoleon,  generally  ;  often  Caesar  and 
Frederick,  and  sometimes  George  Washing- 
ton and  General  Lee." 

"But  you  have  no  head.  Isn't  that  a 
drawback  for  a  commander  ?  '  ' 

"  Not  with  troops  like  these.  I  lost  that 
head  at  Quebec,  as  Montcalm." 

She  looked  down  upon  him  with  a  wish 
that  she  also  might  have  been  one  of  those 
absurd  little  soldiers  and  shared  his  victories. 

"  The  cracks  between  the  floor-boards," 
he  continued,  "  are  railroads,  rivers,  canals, 
stone  walls,  or  mountain  ranges,  according 
to  the  campaign." 

"They  must  have  been  a  nuisance, 
though.  Could  not  a  soldier  disappear  and 
not  return  ?  ' ' 

' '  I  should  say  he  could  !  Why,  those 
ravines  are  gorged  with  heroes,  and  that" 
recalls  the  most  humiliating  event  of  my 
career.  I  was  leading  the  charge  of  the 
Light  Brigade,  six  of  these  cavalrymen,  each 
representing  a  hundred  men.  I  of  course 
was  in  front,  and  it  was  a  supreme  mo- 


152  AMOS  JUDD 

merit.  As  we  dashed  across  the  open  field 
— the  cracks,  mind  you,  didn't  count  this 
time — I,  the  leader,  suddenly  disappeared, 
head  downward,  feet  up,  in  an  open  field  ! 
Of  course  the  charge  could  not  stop,  and 
the  others  rushed  on  to  a  magnificent  death. ' ' 

With  a  sigh  he  gathered  the  motley  com- 
pany together  again,  and  laid  them  away  in 
their  box.  She  got  up  and  moved  about. 
"  I  should  like  to  live  in  an  attic.  It  is 
mysterious  and  poetic,  and  so  crammed  with 
history.  Each  of  these  things  has  its  little 
story  for  somebody,"  and  she  stopped  before 
a  curious* feminine  garment  in  India  silk,  of 
a  long-ago  fashion. 

Pointing  to  a  quaint  old  cap  with  ear-laps, 
she  exclaimed,  "  What  a  funny  rig  that  is ! 
Put  it  on."  And  she  took  it  from  its  peg 
and  placed  it  upon  his  head,  then  laughed 
and  led  him  to  a  broken  mirror  that  was 
hanging  from  a  rafter.  "  Unless  you  wear 
it  in  New  York  next  winter,  I  shall  never 
marry  you  !  ' ' 

"  Then  I  promise,  but  at  present  it  is  a 
trifle  warm." 

As  he  removed  it  a  letter  slipped  from  the 
lining  and  fell  to  the  floor.  She  picked  it 
up  and  turned  it  over  in  her  fingers.  "  Why, 


AMOS  JUDD  153 

it  has  never  been  opened  !  It  is  directed 
to  Mr.  Josiah  Judd." 

Amos  examined  it,  studied  the  date,  then 
looked  at  the  old  cap.  "  He  wore  this  at 
the  time  of  his  death,  when  he  had  just  come 
from  the  post-office,  and  the  Daleford  post- 
mark says  December  fifth,  the  very  day  be- 
fore. That  is  very  curious.'*  And  he  stood 
looking  down  at  the  letter,  deep  in  thought. 

"  Why  don't  you  open  it?  You  are  the 
one  who  should  do  it,  I  suppose." 

"  Yes,  I  suppose  so." 

"  Where  is  it  from?  " 

"  India.  From  Mr.  Morton  Judd,  his 
brother,  the  one  who  sent  me  here." 

"  Oh,  yes  !  I  remember.  Is  Mr.  Morton 
Judd  alive?" 

"  No,  he  died  ten  years  ago." 

"  Well,  please  open  it,  for  it  may  be  in- 
teresting. Come  over  near  the  light." 

As  they  stood  by  the  open  window,  lean- 
ing against  the  sill,  he  tore  open  the  enve- 
lope and  began  reading  aloud,  she  looking 
idly  out  upon  some  haymakers  in  a  neigh- 
boring field.  Their  voices  came  faintly  to 
her  ears,  and  they  made  a  pleasant  picture 
in  the  afternoon  sunlight  with  the  village 
spires,  the  tall  elms,  and  the  purple  hills  for 


154  AMOS  JUDD 

a  background.     She  wondered  if  India  was 
at  all  like  New  England. 

DEAR  JOSIAH  :  The  case  ought  to  reach  you 
about  a  fortnight  after  his  letter,  and  if  you  will 
write  to  Mr.  Wharton,  or  better  still,  visit  him,  he 
will  see  that  there  is  no  trouble  at  the  Custom  House. 
Give  my  love  to  Sarah,  but  don't  show  her  the  shawl 
and  the  silks  before  her  birthday,  in  January.  What 
you  say  about  the  boy  Amos  does  not  surprise  me, 
and  I  was  only  waiting  for  you  to  make  your  own 
discoveries.  He  gave  clear  indications  when  a  very 
small  child  of  this  same  faculty  in  which  his  mother 
and  the  rest  of  his  family  had  great  faith.  In  the 
box  you  will  receive  I  send  a  book  giving  an  ac- 
count of  the  Rajah  Sirdar  Sing,  his  ancestor,  a  hero 
of  prophetic  powers  who  died  ninety-eight  years  ago, 
so  this  boy,  according  to  tradition,  should  inherit  the 
same  supernatural  faculties.  Be  careful  that  he  does 
not  see  this  book  before  coming  of  age,  as  it  might 
put  dangerous  ideas  into  his  head,  and  if  he  should 
suspect  what  he  really  is  great  mischief  might  ensue. 
I  am  glad  he  is  turning  out  such  a  sensible  boy. 
But  if  he  should  ever  come  over  here  and  make  him- 
self known  it  would  cause  a  great  disturbance,  and 
might  result  fatally  to  himself.  Am  sorry  to  hear 
about  Phil  Bates's  wife.  She  was  a  fool  to  marry 
him. 

Your  affectionate  brother, 
MORTON  JUDD. 

Amos  stood  looking  down  at  the  letter 
and  remained  silent.  She  laid  a  hand  upon 


AMOS  JUDD  155 

his  arm  and  said,  "  What  does  it  mean, 
Amos,  about  not  letting  you  know  who  you 
are  ?  Who  are  you  ?  ' ' 

He  looked  up  with  a  smile.  "  I  don't 
know,  old  girl ;  I  can  only  guess." 

"  Well,  what  do  you  guess  ?  " 

' '  I  guess  that  I  am  the  rajah  of  that  prov- 
ince." 

"  Really  ?  Why,  you  don't  mean  it ! 
And  have  you  always  known  it  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  it  now,  but  I  have  always 
suspected  it." 

"  You  funny  old  thing  !  Why,  this  is 
awfully  exciting  !  And  you  never  told 
me!  " 

"  Why  should  I?  Your  father  would 
only  have  hastened  my  departure  if  I  had 
tried  to  pass  myself  off  as  a  fairy  prince  ;  and 
you  would  have  laughed  in  my  face." 

"  No.  I  am  not  so  sure.  But  that  was 
long  ago,  and  to-day  I  should  believe  any- 
thing you  told  me." 

"Well,  I  believe  you  would,"  and  there, 
at  the  open  window,  he  put  his  arm  about 
her  waist  and  did  that  unnecessary  thing 
true  lovers  seem  unable  to  resist.  She 
jumped  away  to  turn  with  an  anxious  face 
and  look  cautiously  through  the  window. 


156  AMOS  JUDD 

But  the  distant  haymakers  gave  no  signs  of 
having  received  a  shock. 

"  Could  they  have  seen  ?  "  she  demanded. 

He  looked  over  upon  the  sunlit  field. 
"  No,  poor  things,  they  missed  it  !  " 

But  Molly  moved  away  and  seated  her- 
self upon  a  venerable  little  horse-hair  trunk 
whose  bald  spots  were  numerous  and  of  con- 
siderable extent.  Brass-headed  nails,  now 
black  with  age,  studded  all  its  edges  and 
formed  at  each  end  the  initials  of  Josiah 
Judd. 

' l  Tell  me,  little  Amos,  what  happened 
to  you  as  a  child,  that  you  should  consider 
yourself  a  fairy  prince. ' ' 

The  trunk  was  short  for  two,  but  Amos, 
by  a  little  pushing  and  crowding,  managed 
to  sit  beside  her. 

"Well,  in  the  first  place,  I  was  always 
too  wise  and  too  amiable  for  an  ordinary 
mor ' ' 

"  No,  no  !     Be  serious." 

"Well,  almost  everything  I  remember 
seems  to  point  in  that  direction.  For  in- 
stance, there  was  a  separate  seat  for  me  on 
swell  occasions ;  a  sort  of  throne,  I  should 
say,  and  all  the  other  people  stood  up.  In 
the  big  hall  I  told  you  about  where  the  fight 


AMOS  JUDD  157 

took  place,  I  used  to  sit  in  an  ivory  chair 
with  gold  ornaments  on  it,  cocked  up  on  a 
platform  apart  from  other  people.  And 
that  afternoon  I  was  walking  across  the  hall 
toward  it  when  the  fierce-looking  chap  with 
the  beard  caught  me  up  and  passed  me 
along." 

"  Gracious  !  This  is  very  exciting  !  Go 
on." 

' '  I  could  give  you  this  sort  of  stuff  by 
the  yard  if  the  conditions  were  favorable. 
The  conditions  now  are  unfavorable. " 

Their  eyes  met,  but  experience  had  taught 
her  caution.  "  Go  on.  There  are  no  rajahs 
in  America,  and  you  will  do  as  I  tell  you. ' ' 

"That  is  very  true,  but  we  are  too  far 
apart." 

' '  And  all  the  while  you  are  crowding  me 
off  this  trunk  !  " 

"  Yes,  but  at  the  same  time  I  am  holding 
you  on.  Do  you  see  that  old  rocking-chair 
over  there  with  one  arm  that  is  beckoning 
to  us?" 

There  followed  a  brief,  illogical  discus- 
sion, then  finally  a  gentle  force  was  used  by 
the  stronger  party,  and  a  moment  later  the 
old  chair  groaned  beneath  a  heavier  burden 
than  it  had  borne  for  thirty  years. 


158  AMOS  JUDD 

After  persistent  urging  the  reminiscences 
were  continued.  "  They  always  helped  me 
first  at  table,  no  matter  how  old  the  other 
guests  were,  or  how  many  or  how  swell. 
The  bowing  and  saluting  was  much  more 
elaborate  toward  me  than  toward  anyone 
else,  and  in  processions  they  always  stuck 
me  in  front.  Shortly  after  my  father  died 
there  was  a  grand  ceremony  in  a  sort  of 
courtyard  with  awnings  over  us,  and  I  re- 
member what  an  everlasting  affair  it  was, 
and  how  my  uncle  and  an  old  general  stood 
behind  my  chair,  while  all  the  swells  and 
panjandrums  came  up  and  saluted  me,  then 
passed  along.  I  should  say  there  might 
have  been  a  million.  I  know  I  went  to 
sleep  and  my  uncle  kept  tapping  me  on  the 
shoulder  to  keep  me  awake. ' ' 

"  You  poor  little  thing!  But  you  must 
really  have  been  something  tremendously 
important,  mustn't  you  ?  " 

"  It  seems  so." 

"  Well,  go  on." 

"  After  that  there  were  some  big  re- 
views, and  I  sat  on  a  white  pony  with 
officers  in  a  semicircle  behind  me,  while 
the  troops  marched  by,  and  the  generals 
and  colonels  all  saluted.  That  was  great 


AMOS  JUDD  159 

fun.  And  I  shall  never  forget  my  saddle 
of  crimson  leather  with  the  gold  trim- 
mings. ' ' 

"  How  romantic  !  Why,  it  seems  impossi- 
ble !  " 

"  Do  you  remember  the  head-dress  in  my 
mother's  miniature  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"Well,  I  find  that  sort  of  thing  is  only 
worn  by  royalty." 

There  was  a  pause,  during  which  the  old 
chair  rocked  gently  to  and  fro,  but  noisily, 
as  if  in  protest  against  its  double  burden, 
while  the  voices  from  the  neighboring  field 
came  drifting  in  the  window  and  with  them 
the  occasional  tinkling  of  a  cow-bell. 

"And  to  think  of  your  being  here  in 
Connecticut,  a  farmer  !  ' ' 

' '  Thank  heaven  I  am  !  "  and  there  fol- 
lowed one  of  those  foolish  but  apparently 
enjoyable  scenes  which  no  dignified  histor- 
ian is  expected  to  describe.  Stepping  away 
from  the  rocking-chair  Molly  turned  with  a 
frown  upon  its  remaining  occupant  as  she 
pressed  an  escaping  lock  into  position. 
Through  the  open  window  the  setting  sun 
sent  a  bar  of  light  across  the  attic  that  illu- 
mined her  hair  with  a  golden  touch. 


160  AMOS  JUDD 

"  We  must  find  that  book,"  she  exclaimed, 
with  an  impatient  gesture.  "  It  will  tell  us 
the  very  things  we  wish  to  know.  Come, 
get  up,  and  hunt  !  '  * 

Slowly  rocking,  with  his  head  resting 
against  the  chair,  he  regarded  her  with  ad- 
miring eyes,  but  showed  no  signs  of  haste. 
"  There  is  but  one  book  I  care  to  study, 
and  that  is  a  poem  in  pink,  about  five  feet 
six  in  length,  with  gilt  edges  at  the  top." 

She  smiled  sadly.  "  No,  not  a  poem, 
but  very  ordinary  prose,  and  you  will  get 
precious  little  wisdom  from  studying  it." 

"  On  the  contrary,  every  page  is  a  new 
revelation.  Why,  the  binding  alone  is  a 
poem  !  Merely  to  hold  it  in  one's  lap  and 
look  at  the  cover  is  a  gentle  intoxica- 
tion." 

Wavering  between  a  smile  and  a  frown, 
she  answered  : 

"I  wonder  if  all  rajahs  are  such  transpar- 
ent flatterers.  But  come  !  Find  the  book  ! 
It  must  be  downstairs  in  the  library." 

"  No,  it  is  not  down  there.  I  know  every 
book  among  them." 

"  Where  can  it  be,  then  ?  tucked  away  in 
some  trunk  or  drawer  ?  ' ' 

"Probably." 


AMOS  JUDD  161 

"  Could  it  be  in  that?"  and  she  pointed 
to  an  old  cherry-wood  desk  just  behind 
him.  He  turned  and  regarded  it. 

"  As  likely  there  as  anywhere.  It  is  the 
desk  he  used  until  he  died." 

Molly  opened  the  slanting  top  and  found 
an  array  of  pigeon  holes  filled  with  old 
papers.  There  were  some  very  small  draw- 
ers, all  of  which  she  opened,  but  they  con- 
tained no  book,  so  she  closed  the  top  and 
opened  the  long  upper  drawer.  It  was  al- 
most empty,  the  only  contents  being  a  few 
envelopes  of  seeds,  some  tools,  scattered 
cards,  and  a  couple  of  marbles  that  ran  about 
as  the  drawer  was  opened. 

"I  rather  think  you  know  this  place," 
and  she  lifted  up  a  bladeless  jackknife. 
"  Only  a  boy  could  treat  a  knife  in  such  a 
way. ' ' 

"  Yes,  I  remember  all  those  things.  That 
wooden  pistol  has  killed  lots  of  Indians. ' ' 

The  second  drawer  held  among  other 
things  a  camel' s-hair  shawl,  a  bed-cover,  a 
pair  of  woman's  slippers,  a  huge  shell -comb 
elaborately  carved,  some  black  mits,  and  a 
package  of  letters  ;  almost  everything  except 
a  book.  The  third  drawer  and  the  fourth 
were  equally  disappointing.  The  lowest 


1 62  AMOS  JUDD 

drawer  was  deeper  and  "heavier,  and  it  stuck. 
Amos  sprang  to  help  her,  and  together  they 
pulled  it  open,  then  sat  down  upon  the  floor 
in  front  of  it.  The  character  of  its  contents 
was  much  like  the  others,  but  Molly  delved 
thoroughly  among  its  treasures  and  she  re- 
ceived her  reward.  As  her  hand  was  explor- 
ing a  farther  corner  she  looked  up  into  his 
face  with  a  look  of  excitement. 

"  Here  is  a  book  !  It  must  be  the  one  !  " 
and  a  little  volume  was  drawn  forth. 

"  '  The  Heroes  of  India  !  '  aren't  we  in 
luck!  " 

It  was  a  handsome  little  book,  with  a  blue 
morocco  cover  and  gilt  edges,  published  in 
Calcutta.  Turning  over  the  leaves  with 
eager  fingers  she  came  to  a  bookmark  oppo- 
site a  portrait,  a  steel  engraving,  showing 
the  head  and  shoulders  of  a  bejewelled 
prince. 

"  Why,  it  might  be  you  !  It  is  exactly  like 
you  !  Look  !  "  and  she  held  it  before  him. 

"  So  it  is,  but  perhaps  they  all  are.  Let's 
hear  about  him  if  you  are  sure  he  is  our 
man.'7 

"  Oh,  I  am  sure  of  it !  He  is  the  image 
of  you  and  the  others  are  not ;  ' '  and  she 
began  to  read. 


AMOS  JUDD  163 

"  Of  all  the  royal  families  in  India,  none 
claim  an  existence  more  remote  than  that  of 
the  Maharaja  Sirdar  Oumra  Sing.  Accord- 
ing to  accepted  history  and  tradition,  this 
princely  house  not  only  dates  back  to  the 
earliest  centuries  of  Eastern  history,  but 
owes  its  origin  to  the  immortal  Vishn'u  him- 
self. It  is  a  romantic  story,  in  fact  the  surviv- 
al of  an  ancient  fable,  poetic  and  supernatural, 
but,  curiously  enough,  seems  to  be  substan- 
tiated by  the  extraordinary  attributes  of  a  re- 
cent ruler.  The  Rajah  Sirdar  Sing,  whose 
portrait  heads  this  article,  was  perhaps  the 
most  popular  hero  of  Northern  India,  and  un- 
less we  reject  the  evidence  of  all  his  contem- 
poraries, was  possessed  of  powers  that  brought 
him  the  most  startling  victories  both  in  peace 
and  war,  and  over  adversaries  that  were  con- 
sidered invincible.  His  kingdom,  during  his 
reign  of  thirty  years,  was  nearly  doubled  in 
territory  and  enormously  increased  in  wealth. 
In  his  own  country  to-day  there  are  none 
who  question  his  prophetic  powers  :  men  of 
science  and  of  letters,  historians,  high  priests, 
lawyers,  soldiers,  all  firmly  believe  in  his 
immortal  gifts.  To  us  Europeans,  how- 
ever, these  tales  are  more  difficult  of  accept- 
ance. 


1 64  AMOS  JUDD 

"  In  the  very  centre  of  Sirdar  Sing's  fore- 
head the  reader  may  have  observed  a  faint 
spot  scarcely  half  an  inch  in  diameter,  and 
this  appeared,  we  are  told,  like  a  scar  or 
a  burn,  of  a  lighter  color  than  the  skin 
and,  except  under  certain  conditions,  was 
barely  noticeable.  But  the  tradition  runs 
that  when  exercising  his  prophetic  faculty 
this  little  spot  increased  in  brilliancy  and  al- 
most glowed,  as  if  of  flame." 

"  And  so  does  yours  !  "  and  she  regarded 
him  with  a  look  of  awe. 

"  Go  ahead/'  he  said,  looking  down  at 
the  book.  t '  Let  us  hear  the  rest. ' ' 

"The  legend  is  this  : 

"  When  Vishn'u  in  his  Kr'ishn'a-Avatara, 
or  eighth  incarnation,  was  hard-pressed  in 
his  war  against  the  Kurus,  he  received  great 
assistance  from  Arjuna,  a  Pan'd'u  prince 
who,  after  a  four  days'  battle,  and  at  great  risk 
to  himself,  delivered  to  his  immortal  ally  the 
sacred  city  of  Dwaraka.  For  this  service  and 
in  token  of  his  undying  gratitude,  Vishn'u 
laid  his  finger  upon  the  forehead  of  Arjuna 
and  endowed  him  with  a  knowledge  of  future 
events,  also  promising  that  once  in  a  hun- 


AMOS  JUDD  165 

dred  years  a  descendant  should  possess  this 
priceless  gift.  Although  we  may  not  accept 
this  romantic  tale,  there  is  no  doubt  what- 
ever that  Sirdar  Sing,  the  original  of  our 
portrait,  was  guided  by  a  knowledge  of  the 
future,  either  earthly  or  divine,  which  neither 
scientists  nor  historians  have  yet  explained. 
The  next  in  order  to  inherit  this  extraordi- 
nary faculty,  if  there  is  truth  in  the  legend, 
will  be  the  son  of  the  present  rajah,  whose 
nuptials  have  just  been  celebrated  with  such 
lavish  and  magnificent  festivities." 

She  paused  for  a  moment,  then  with 
trembling  fingers  turned  back  to  the  title- 
page.  The  book  was  printed  twenty-eight 
years  ago,  the  year  before  Amos  was  born. 

For  a  long  time  they  sat  on  the  floor 
talking ;  she  asking  many  questions  and  he 
answering,  until  the  listening  objects  in 
the  attic  began  to  lose  their  outline  and 
become  a  part  of  the  gloom.  The  sunlight 
along  the  rafters  dwindled  to  a  narrow  strip, 
then  disappeared  ;  and  the  voices  of  the 
haymakers  were  long  since  gone  when  Amos 
and  Molly  finally  climbed  to  their  feet  and 
descended  the  stairs. 


IX 


SEPTEMBER  brought  other  guests,  and  with 
their  arrival  Amos  Judd  and  Molly  Cabot 
found  the  easy,  irresponsible  routine  of  their 
happy  summer  again  disturbed.  To  his  own 
fierce  regret,  Amos  could  invent  no  decent 
pretext  for  escaping  a  visit  he  had  promised 
early  in  the  summer,  and  a  more  unwilling 
victim  never  resigned  himself  to  a  week  of 
pleasure.  To  the  girl  he  was  to  leave  be- 
hind him,  he  bewailed  the  unreasonable 
cruelty  of  his  friends.  "  This  leaving  you, 
Soul  of  my  Soul,  is  worse  than  death.  1 
shall  not  eat  while  I  am  gone,  and  nights  I 
shall  sit  up  and  curse." 

But  at  the  end  of  a  week  he  returned, 
promptly  on  the  minute.  His  moments  of 
depression,  however,  seemed  rather  to  in- 
crease than  diminish,  and,  although  care- 
fully repressed,  were  visible  to  a  pair  of 
watchful  eyes.  Upon  his  face  when  in  re- 
pose there  had  always  been  a  melancholy 


AMOS  JUDD  167 

look,  which  now  seemed  deepening  as  from 
an  inward  sorrow,  too  strong  to  conquer. 
This  was  betrayed  occasionally  by  a  careless 
speech,  but  to  her  questioning  he  always  re- 
turned a  cheerful  answer.  In  spite  of  these 
heroic  efforts  to  maintain  a  joyful  front, 
Molly  was  not  deceived,  and  it  was  evident, 
even  to  Mr.  Cabot,  that  the  young  man  was 
either  ill  in  body  or  the  victim  of  a  mental 
disturbance  that  might  be  disastrous  in  its 
results.  Of  this  he  was  destined  to  have 
a  closer  knowledge  than  his  daughter.  It 
came  about  one  Sunday  morning,  when  the 
two  men  had  climbed  a  neighboring  hill  for 
a  view  which  Mr.  Cabot  had  postponed 
from  week  to  week  since  early  June.  This 
was  his  last  Sunday  in  Daleford  and  his  final 
opportunity. 

The  view  was  well  worth  the  climb.  The 
day  itself,  such  a  day  as  comes  oftenest 
in  September,  when  the  clear  air  is  tem- 
pered to  the  exact  degree  for  human  comfort 
by  the  rays  of  a  summer  sun,  was  one  in 
which  the  most  indifferent  view  could  shine 
without  an  effort.  Below  them,  at  the  foot 
of  the  hill,  lay  the  village  of  Daleford  with 
its  single  street.  Except  the  white  spires  of 
its  churches,  little  could  be  seen,  however, 


1 68  AMOS  JUDD 

beneath  the  four  rows  of  overhanging  elms. 
Off  to  their  left,  a  mile  or  two  away,  the 
broad  Connecticut,  through  its  valley  of 
elms,  flowed  serenely  to  the  sea ;  and  be- 
yond, the  changing  hills  took  on  every  color 
from  the  deepest  purple  to  a  golden  yellow. 
A  green  valley  on  their  right  wandered  off 
among  the  woods  and  hills,  and  in  it  the 
stately  avenue  of  maples  they  both  knew  so 
well.  A  silence  so  absolute  and  so  far- 
reaching  rested  upon  the  scene  that,  after  a 
word  or  two  of  praise,  the  two  men,  from  a 
common  impulse,  remained  without  speak- 
ing. As  thus  they  sat  under  the  gentle  in- 
fluence of  a  spell  which  neither  cared  to 
break,  the  notes  of  an  organ  came  floating 
upward  from  the  trees  below  them,  and 
mingled  with  the  voices  of  a  choir.  Mr. 
Cabot's  thoughts  turned  at  once  to  the 
friend  at  his  side,  whom  he  felt  must  experi- 
ence a  yet  deeper  impression  from  these  fa- 
miliar scenes  of  his  childhood.  Turning  to 
express  this  thought,  he  was  so  struck  by  the 
look  upon  Amos' s  face,  an  expression  of  such 
despairing  melancholy,  that  he  stopped  in 
the  middle  of  his  sentence.  While  well 
aware  that  these  tragic  eyes  were  always 
most  pathetic  objects  in  repose,  he  had 


AMOS  JUDD  169 

never  seen  upon  a  human  face  a  clearer 
token  of  a  hopeless  grief. 

"  What  is  it,  my  boy  ?  "  he  asked,  laying 
a  hand  upon  the  knee  beside  him.  "  Tell 
me.  I  may  be  able  to  help  you. ' ' 

There  was  a  slight  hesitation  and  a  long 
breath  before  the  answer  came.  "  I  am 
ashamed  to  tell  you,  Mr.  Cabot.  I  value 
your  good  opinion  so  very  much  that  it 
comes  hard  to  let  you  know  what  a  weak 
and  cowardly  thing  I  have  been,  and  am." 

"  Cowardly — that  I  do  not  believe.  You 
may  be  weak  ;  all  of  us  are  that ;  in  fact,  it 
seems  to  be  the  distinguishing  attribute  of 
the  human  family.  But  out  with  it,  what- 
ever it  is.  You  can  trust  me. " 

"  Oh,  I  know  that,  sir  !  If  you  were 
only  less  of  a  man  and  more  like  myself,  it 
would  be  easier  to  do  it.  But  I  will  tell  you 
the  whole  story.  By  the  fourth  of  Novem- 
ber I  shall  not  be  alive,  and  I  have  known 
it  for  a  year." 

Mr.  Cabot  turned  in  surprise.  "  Why  do 
you  think  that  ?  ' ' 

But  Amos  went  on  without  heeding  the 
question. 

"  I  knew  it  when  I  asked  Molly  to  be  my 
wife  ;  and  all  the  time  that  she  has  gone  on 


170  AMOS  JUDD 

loving  me  more  and  more,  I  have  known  it, 
and  done  all  I  could  to  make  things  worse. 
And  now,  as  the  time  approaches  and  I  real- 
ize that  in  a  few  weeks  she  will  be  a  broken- 
hearted woman — for  I  have  learned  what  her 
affection  is  and  how  much  I  am  to  her — now 
I  begin  to  see  what  I  have  done.  God 
knows  it  is  hard  enough  to  die  and  leave 
her,  but  to  die  only  to  have  played  a  practi- 
cal joke  on  the  girl  for  whom  I  would  joy- 
fully give  a  thousand  lives  if  I  had  them,  is 
too  much." 

He  arose,  and  standing  before  her  father, 
made  a  slight  gesture  as  of  surrender  and 
resignation.  The  older  man  looked  away 
toward  the  distant  river,  but  said  nothing. 

"Listen,  sir,  and  try  to  believe  me." 
Mr.  Cabot  raised  his  glance  to  the  dark  face 
and  saw  truth  and  an  open  heart  in  the  eyes 
fixed  solemnly  upon  his  own ;  and  he  recog- 
nized a  being  transformed  by  a  passion  im- 
measurably stronger  than  himself. 

"  When  I  found  she  loved  me  I  could 
think  of  nothing  else.  Why  should  I  not 
be  happy  for  the  short  time  I  had  to  live  ? 
Her  love  was  more  to  me  than  any  earthly 
thing,  than  any  possible  hereafter.  Better 
one  summer  with  her  than  to  live  forever 


AMOS  JUDD  171 

and  not  have  known  her.  Oh  !  I  thought 
of  her  side  of  it,  often  and  often  ;  many  a 
night  I  have  done  nothing  else,  but  I  could 
no  more  give  her  up  than  I  could  lift  this 
hill."  He  paused,  drew  a  long  breath,  as 
if  at  the  hopelessness  of  words  to  convey  his 
meaning,  then  added,  very  calmly  : 

"  Now  I  am  soberer,  as  the  end  ap- 
proaches, and  I  love  her  more  than  ever  :  but 
I  will  do  whatever  you  say  ;  anything  that 
will  make  her  happier.  No  sacrifice  can  be 
too  great,  and  I  promise  you  I  will  make  it. 
I  have  often  wished  the  bull  had  killed  me 
that  day,  then  I  should  have  her  love  and 
respect  forever  ;  and  yours  too,  perhaps. ' ' 

"  You  have  both  now,  Amos.  But  tell 
me  why  you  think  you  are  to  die  by  Novem- 
ber fourth  ?  " 

Amos  resumed  his  seat  upon  the  rock  and 
answered  :  < '  Because  I  have  seen  myself  ly- 
ing dead  on  that  day." 

"  I  have  sometimes  wondered,"  said  Mr. 
Cabot,  "  if  that  temptation  would  not  prove 
too  strong  for  you." 

"  No,  sir,  it  was  not  too  strong  for  me 
under  ordinary  circumstances,  but  it  hap- 
pened when  I  was  not  myself,  when  I  came 
out  of  that  fever  last  October,  and  as  I  lay 


172  AMOS  JUDD 

in  bed,  weak  and  half-conscious,  I  felt  sure 
my  day  had  come.  I  thought  the  doctor 
was  not  telling  me  the  truth,  so,  by  looking 
ahead  for  myself,  I  learned  more  than  I 
cared  to  know,  and  saw  myself  lying  on  a 
sofa  in  a  strange  room,  a  place  I  had  never 
been  into  ;  a  public  building,  I  should  think. ' ' 

"  But  why  do  you  think  it  is  to  be  the 
fourth  of  November,  and  this  year  ?  ' ' 

"  Because  I  looked  about  and  saw  near  a 
window  a  little  day  calendar,  and  that  was 
the  date  it  bore.  Then  on  a  table  lay  a 
daily  paper  of  the  day  before,  and  two  maga- 
zines of  the  same  month,  all  of  this  year. ' ' 

"  But  is  it  not  possible  the  room  is  un- 
occupied and  that  these  things  have  been 
lying  there  indefinitely  ?  " 

Amos  shook  his  head.  "  No,  sir,  it  is 
a  room  that  is  lived  in.  There  are  other 
papers  lying  about :  books,  and  a  letter  on 
the  desk  waiting  to  be  mailed.  And  in  the 
fireplace  the  embers  are  still  glowing. ' ' 

Mr.  Cabot  looked  with  the  profoundest 
sympathy  toward  his  friend,  who  was  scaling 
bits  of  moss  from  the  rock  beside  him  ;  then 
he  turned  again  to  the  view  and  its  tranquil 
beauty  seemed  a  mockery.  In  the  village 
below  them  he  could  see  the  congregation 


AMOS  JUDD  173 

pouring  out  from  a  little  white  church  like 
ants  from  a  loaf  of  sugar.  Mr.  Cabot  was 
not  a  religious  man,  and  at  present  there 
was  nothing  in  his  heart  that  could  be  mis- 
taken for  resignation.  His  spirit  was  in  re- 
volt, his  pugnacity  aroused,  and  with  this 
quality  he  was  freely  endowed.  Rising  to  his 
feet  he  stood  for  a  moment  in  silence,  with 
folded  arms,  frowning  upon  the  distant  hills. 
"Amos,11  he  said,  finally,  "in  spite  of 
bygone  defeats  I  am  inclined  to  resist  this 
prophecy  of  yours.  You  were  not  absolutely 
master  of  your  own  mind  at  the  time,  and 
under  such  conditions  nothing  would  be 
easier  than  to  confuse  your  own  imagining 
with  a  vision  of  another  character.  At  least 
it  is  not  impossible,  and  if  by  good  luck  you 
did  happen  to  confound  one  with  the  other 
we  are  having  our  panic  for  nothing.  More- 
over, even  if  this  vision  is  correct,  it  need 
not  necessarily  signify  an  undeviating  fulfil- 
ment in  every  detail.  It  may  indicate  the 
result  to  be  expected  in  the  natural  order  of 
events  ;  that  is,  if  things  are  allowed  to  take 
their  course  without  obstruction  or  inter- 
vening influences.  But  it  is  difficult  for  me 
to  believe  this  faculty  is  to  continue  infalli- 
ble through  all  your  mental  and  physical  de- 


174  AMOS  JUDD 

velopments  and  fluctuations  of  faith,  and 
never,  under  any  possible  conditions,  vary  a 
hair's-breadth  from  the  truth.  It  is  a  law  of 
nature  that  a  disused  faculty  shall  weaken 
and  lose  its  power,  and  for  years  you  have 
done  your  best  to  repress  and  forget  it." 

"  Yes,  sir,  but  whenever  employed  it  has 
been  correct." 

"  That  may  be,  and  its  day  of  failure  still 
remain  a  probability.  In  this  present  case 
the  prophecy,  aside  from  its  uncertain  origin, 
is  one  whose  fulfilment  is  more  easy  to  avert 
than  some  of  the  others.  You  say  the  room 
in  which  you  saw  yourself  is  one  you  are 
unfamiliar  with,  and  consequently  is  not  in 
Daleford." 

"Oh,  no!  There  is  nothing  like  it  in 
this  vicinity." 

"  Well,  suppose  you  were  to  remain  in 
Daleford  during  the  critical  period  with  two 
men,  nominally  visitors  at  your  house,  to 
watch  you  day  and  night  and  see  that  you 
do  not  escape  ?  Or,  better  still,  let  me 
send  you  to  an  institution  in  which  I  am  a 
director,  where  you  will  be  confined  as  a 
dangerous  patient,  and  where  escape,  even 
if  you  attempted  it,  would  be  as  hopeless  as 
from  a  prison. ' ' 


AMOS  JUDD  175 

Amos  doubted  the  success  of  any  attempt 
at  foiling  fate,  or,  in  other  words,  giving  the 
lie  to  a  revelation  once  received,  but  he  was 
willing  to  do  whatever  his  friend  desired. 
As  they  walked  home  they  discussed  the 
plan  in  detail  and  decided  to  act  upon  it ; 
also  to  take  every  precaution  that  Molly 
should  be  kept  in  ignorance. 

The  first  week  in  October  the  house  at  the 
north  end  of  the  avenue  was  empty  and  the 
Cabots  were  in  New  York.  As  the  end  of  the 
month  approached  a  little  tale  was  invented 
to  explain  the  cessation  for  a  time  of  Amos' s 
visits,  and  early  one  afternoon  the  two  men 
got  into  a  cab  and  were  driven  to  the  out- 
skirts of  the  city.  They  entered  the  grounds 
of  a  well-known  institution,  were  received 
by  the  superintendent  and  one  or  two  other 
officials,  then,  at  the  request  of  the  elder 
visitor,  were  shown  over  the  entire  building 
and  into  every  room  of  any  size  or  impor- 
tance. When  this  inspection  was  over  Mr. 
Cabot  took  his  companion  aside  and  asked 
if  he  had  seen  the  room  they  sought.  Amos 
shook  his  head  and  replied  that  no  such 
room  could  be  within  the  grounds.  A  few 
minutes  later  the  young  man  was  shown  to 
a  chamber  where  his  trunk  had  preceded  him. 


1 76  AMOS  JUDD 

The  two  friends  were  alone  for  a  moment, 
and  as  they  separated  Amos  gave  the  hand 
in  his  own  a  final  pressure,  saying  :  "  Don't 
think  I  am  weakening,  Mr.  Cabot,  but  I 
cannot  help  feeling  that  I  have  seen  Molly 
for  the  last  time.  And  if  you  and  I  never 
meet  again,  you  may  be  sure  my  last 
thoughts  were  with  you  both." 

In  a  cheerful  tone  the  lawyer  answered  : 
"I  shall  listen  to  no  such  sentiments.  If 
your  prophecy  is  correct  you  are  to  be 
lying  in  a  room  outside  these  grounds  on 
November  fourth.  No  such  prophecy  can 
be  carried  out.  And  if  the  prophecy  is  in- 
correct we  shall  meet  for  several  years  yet. 
So  good-by,  my  boy.  I  shall  be  here  the 
third." 

During  ten  days  Amos  was  to  remain 
under  the  strictest  watch,  to  be  guarded  by 
two  men  at  night  and  by  two  others  in  the 
day-time,  and  to  be  permitted  under  no 
conditions  to  leave  that  wing  of  the  build- 
ing. By  the  subordinate  in  charge  and  by 
the  four  guardians  he  was  believed  to  be  the 
victim  of  a  suicidal  mania.  As  the  fourth 
of  November  approached  Mr.  Cabot's 
thoughts  were  less  upon  his  business  than  with 
his  imprisoned  friend.  He  remembered 


AMOS  JUDD  177 

with  what  inexorable  force  he  himself  had 
been  held  to  the  fulfilment  of  a  prediction. 
He  had  felt  the  hand  of  an  unswerving  fate ; 
and  he  had  not  forgotten. 

But  the  fourth  of  November  came  and 
went  with  no  serious  results,  and  when  the 
five  succeeding  days  had  safely  passed  he  ex- 
perienced a  relief  which  he  was  very  careful 
to  conceal.  With  friendly  hypocrisy  he  as- 
sumed a  perfect  confidence  in  the  result  of 
their  course,  and  he  was  glad  to  see  that 
Amos  himself  began  to  realize  that  anything 
like  a  literal  fulfilment  of  his  vision  was  now 
improbable. 

One  week  later,  the  last  day  of  durance, 
the  prisoner  and  Mr.  Cabot  had  an  interview 
with  Dr.  Chapin  in  the  latter 's  private  of- 
fice. Dr.  Chapin,  the  physician  in  charge 
and  an  expert  of  distinction  in  mental  dis- 
orders, was  a  man  about  sixty  years  of  age, 
short,  slight,  and  pale,  with  small  eyes,  a 
very  large  nose,  and  a  narrow,  clean-shaven 
face.  His  physical  peculiarities  were  empha- 
sized by  a  complete  indifference  as  to  the 
shape  or  quality  of  his  raiment ;  his  coat 
was  a  consummate  misfit,  and  his  trousers 
were  baggy  at  the  knees.  Even  the  spec- 
tacles, which  also  fitted  badly,  were  never 


1 7$  AMOS  JUDD 

parallel  with  his  eyes  and  constantly  required 
an  upward  shove  along  his  nose.  But  a 
professional  intercourse  with  this  gentleman 
led  to  a  conviction  that  his  mental  outfit 
bore  no  relation  to  his  apparel.  Mr.  Cabot 
had  known  him  for  years,  and  Amos  felt  at 
once  that  he  was  in  the  presence  of  a  man  of 
unusual  insight.  Dr.  Chapin  spoke  calmly 
and  without  pretension,  but  as  one  careful  of 
his  speech  and  who  knew  his  facts. 

"  That  you  should  have  made  that  visit 
against  your  will,"  he  said  to  Mr.  Cabot  in 
answering  a  question,  "  is  not  difficult  to 
explain  as  Mr.  Judd  unconsciously  brought 
to  bear  upon  your  movements  a  force  to 
which  he  himself  has  repeatedly  yielded.  If 
he  happens  to  remember,  I  think  he  will 
find  that  his  thoughts  were  with  you  at  that 
time,"  and  he  smiled  pleasantly  on  Amos. 

"  Yes,  sir,  but  only  as  a  matter  of  interest 
in  the  novel  experience  I  knew  Mr.  Cabot 
was  going  through." 

"  Certainly,  but  if  you  had  forgotten  the 
visit  and  if  you  believed  at  that  moment 
that  he  was  to  go  in  another  direction,  Mr. 
Cabot  would  have  followed  the  other  thought 
with  equal  obedience.  This  unconscious 
control  of  one  intelligence  over  another  is 


AMOS  JUDD  179 

well  established  and  within  certain  limits  can 
be  explained,  but  in  these  affairs  science  is 
compelled  to  accept  a  barrier  beyond  which 
we  can  only  speculate.  In  this  case  the  un- 
usual and  the  most  interesting  feature  is  the 
unvarying  accuracy  of  your  visions.  You 
have  inherited  something  from  your  Eastern 
ancestors  to  which  a  hypothesis  can  be  ad- 
justed, but  which  is  in  fact  beyond  a  sci- 
entific explanation.  I  should  not  be  at  all 
surprised  to  find  somewhere  in  the  city  the 
room  in  which  you  saw  yourself  lying  ;  and 
it  is  more  than  probable  that,  if  unrestrained, 
you  would  have  discovered  it  and  fulfilled 
your  prophecy,  unconsciously  obedient  to 
that  irresistible  force.  A  blow,  a  fall,  a 
stroke  of  apoplexy  or  heart  disease ;  the  sud- 
den yielding  of  your  weakest  part  under  a 
nervous  pressure,  could  easily  bring  about 
the  completion  of  your  picture.  Some  of 
the  authenticated  reports  of  corresponding 
cases  are  almost  incredible.  But  before  you 
are  forty,  Mr.  Judd,  you  will  find  in  these 
visions  a  gradual  diminution  of  accuracy  and 
also,  as  in  this  case,  that  their  fulfilment  is 
by  no  means  imperative. ' ' 

For  Amos  there  was  immense   relief  in 
hearing  this,  especially  from  such  a  source, 


i8o  AMOS  JUDD 

and  he  left  the  building  with  a  lighter  heart 
than  he  had  known  for  months.  Now  that 
the  danger  was  over,  he  wished  the  wedding 
to  take  place  at  once,  but  Molly  would  con- 
sent to  no  undignified  haste.  He  found, 
however,  an  unexpected  and  influential  ally 
in  her  grandmother  Jouvenal,  just  arrived 
from  her  home  in  Maryland  for  a  month's 
visit,  and  who  insisted  upon  the  wedding 
taking  place  while  she  was  with  them. 
Mrs.  Jouvenal  was  a  slender  person  of 
sprightly  manners,  whose  long  life  had  been 
sweetly  tempered  by  an  exaggerated  esti- 
mate of  the  importance  of  her  own  family ; 
but  in  other  matters  she  was  reasonable  and 
clear-headed,  endowed  with  quick  percep- 
tions, a  ready  wit,  and  one  of  those  youthful 
spirits  that  never  grow  old.  She  was"  inter- 
ested in  all  that  went  on  about  her,  was  never 
bored  and  never  dull.  It  was  of  course  a 
little  disappointing  that  a  girl  with  such  an 
ancestry  as  Molly's,  on  her  mother's  side, 
should  give  herself  to  an  unknown  Judd  from 
an  obscure  New  England  village ;  but  her 
fondness  for  Amos  soon  consoled  her  for  the 
mesalliance.  Molly  had  a  strong  desire  to 
acquaint  her  grandmother  with  the  ancestral 
facts  of  the  case,  but  Amos  refused  to  give 


AMOS  JUDD  181 

his  consent.  Those  discoveries  in  the  attic 
he  insisted  they  must  keep  to  themselves,  at 
least  while  he  was  alive.  "  When  I  am 
transplanted  I  shall  be  beyond  the  reach  of 
terrestrial  snobs,  and  you  can  do  as  you 
please. ' ' 

The  first  week  in  December  Mrs.  Jouvenal 
was  to  visit  her  son  in  Boston.  "  And  real- 
ly, my  child,"  she  said  to  Molly,  "it  is  the 
last  wedding  in  the  family  I  shall  be  alive  to 
see,  and  with  such  an  exotic  specimen  as  you 
have  selected,  I  shall  not  be  sure  of  a  Chris- 
tian ceremony  unless  I  see  it  myself." 

As  her  father  remained  neutral  Molly  fi- 
nally yielded,  and  there  was  a  wedding  the 
first  Wednesday  in  December. 


"Do  I  look  tired  and  dragged  out?" 
asked  the  bride  of  an  hour  as  they  drove  to 
the  train. 

"  You  look  a  little  tired,  a  little  flushed, 
a  little  ashamed,  and  tremendously  interest- 
ing. But  you  may  hold  my  hand. " 

"  I  am  ashamed,"  and  she  pushed  the 
upturned  hand  from  her  lap  and  looked  out 
the  window. 

"  But,  Light  of  my  Soul,  you  give  us  away 
by  those  imbecile  blushes.  You  might  just 
as  well  thrust  your  head  out  of  the  carriage 
and  cry,  '  Behold  the  bride  and  groom  !  '  " 

She  smiled  and  leaned  back,  but  still 
looked  out.  "  That's  the  horrid  feature  of 
a  honeymoon.  Everybody  knows  it  and 
everybody  looks  at  you.  Is  it  too  late  to  go 
back  and  undo  it  ?  " 

"  What  a  bloodcurdling  thought !  " 

"  And  it  shouldn't  rain  on  our  wedding- 
day,  little  Amos." 

"  Of  course  it  rains.     These  are  the  tears 


AMOS  JUDD  183 

of  countless  lovers  who  lived  before  the  days 
of  Molly  Cabot." 

But  they  left  the  rain  behind  them,  and 
farther  South,  away  down  in  Carolina,  they 
found  plenty  of  sunshine,  with  green  grass 
and  flowers  and  piny  woods. 

One  of  their  first  diversions  on  reaching 
this  southern  country  was  to  go  out  with  a 
driver  and  a  pair  of  horses,  but  the  harvest 
of  pleasure  was  insufficient.  "  The  conver- 
sation of  a  honeymoon,"  observed  the  bride- 
groom, "  is  too  exalted  for  other  ears.  If 
we  talk  as  the  spirit  moves  us,  the  coachman, 
unless  in  love  himself,  may  collapse  from 
nausea :  so  let  us  be  merciful  and  drive  our- 
selves. ' ' 

Thereupon  he  secured  a  buggy  with  an 
old  gray  horse,  and  from  this  combination 
their  felicity  was  much  increased.  The  old 
horse  they  called  Browser,  because  of  the 
only  thing  he  would  do  without  being  urged  ; 
and  it  required  but  a  single  drive  to  develop 
his  good  points,  which  happened  to  be  the 
very  qualities  required.  He  was  dreamy, 
inattentive,  never  hasty,  and  not  easily  dis- 
gusted. His  influence  was  distinctly  restful, 
and  his  capacity  for  ignoring  a  foolish  con- 
versation phenomenal.  It  was  decided  by 


1 84  AMOS  JUDD 

his  present  associates  that  these  virtues  were 
either  hereditary,  or  had  been  developed  to 
the  highest  perfection  by  a  long  and  tender 
experience. 

"  It's  my  opinion,"  remarked  the  groom, 
"  that  being  so  extensively  used  as  a  nuptial 
horse  has  resulted  in  his  regarding  honey- 
moon foolishness  as  the  usual  form  of  con- 
versation. He  probably  thinks  they  talk 
that  way  in  the  courts  and  on  the  Stock  Ex- 
change. ' ' 

But  accustomed  as  Browser  was  to  cloy- 
ing repetitions,  there  were  times  when  his 
endurance  was  sorely  tried.  On  one  occa- 
sion the  bride  alighted  from  the  buggy,  and 
going  a  little  ahead,  gathered  wild  flowers 
by  the  roadside ;  and  as  she  returned, 
Amos,  who  was  giving  Browser  a  handful  of 
grass,  raised  his  hat  in  a  ceremonious  man- 
ner and  advanced  toward  her  with  extended 
hand,  exclaiming : 

"  Why,  Miss  Cabot !  How  do  you  do  ?  I 
had  no  idea  you  were  here.  My  name  is 
Judd." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  she  replied,  draw- 
ing stiffly  back,  "  your  name  is  not  Judd, 
and  you  don't  know  what  it  is.  I  can  never 
marry  a  man  who ' ' 


AMOS  JUDD  185 

"  Wait  till  you  are  asked, "  he  interrupted, 
then  threw  both  arms  about  her,  and  so  they 
stood  for  a  moment,  she  making  no  effort 
to  escape. 

Browser  blushed  and  turned  away. 

In  secluded  corners  of  the  vast  and  rami- 
fying hotel  piazza  they  spent  long  evenings 
and  watched  the  moon,  the  other  people, 
and  the  distant  ocean,  and  talked,  and 
talked,  and  talked.  Of  this  talk  no  serious 
pen  could  write.  The  very  ink  would  laugh 
or  turn  to  sugar  and  run  away  in  shame. 
And  when  these  conversations  were  finished, 
two  well-dressed  and  seemingly  intelligent 
people  would  arise,  and  with  brazen  faces 
enter  the  grand  rotunda  of  the  hotel,  where 
other  guests  would  see  them  enter  the  eleva- 
tor, float  heavenward  and  disappear  from 
human  eyes.  But  the  vexatious  color  still 
came  and  went  in  Molly's  face,  and  seemed 
ever  ready  to  give  the  lie  to  the  gentle  dig- 
nity and  composure  which  rarely  deserted 
her.  Strolling  through  the  gardens  of  the 
hotel  one  afternoon,  they  met  a  stately  ma- 
tron with  her  two  daughters,  whom  Molly 
knew,  and  as  they  separated  after  the  usual 
conversation,  Amos  jeered  at  the  bride,  say- 
ing :  "  Really,  old  Girl,  it  is  mortifying  the 


1 86  AMOS  JUDD 

way  you  blush  upon  this  trip.  I  don't  blame 
the  blushes  for  selecting  such  a  face,  but  you 
only  give  yourself  away.  It  is  merely  an- 
other manner  of  saying  '  I  know  I  am  guilty, 
and  just  see  how  ashamed  I  am  !  '  ' ' 

"  Oh,  don't  talk  about  it !  It's  hideous, 
but  I  can't  help  it.  Are  all  brides  such 
fools?" 

"  I  don't  know,  I  never  travelled  with  one 
before,  but  I  shall  leave  you  behind  if  you 
keep  it  up.  Try  and  think  you  have  been 
married  for  twenty  years.  Do  you  suppose 
the  daisies  giggle  and  the  sun  winks  at  the 
other  planets  every  time  we  look  out  the 
window  ?  Or  that  it  is  because  Molly  and 
Amos  are  spliced  that  the  carnations  blush 
and  the  violets  hide  their  faces  ?  But  I  will 
say  this  for  you,  Spirit  of  Old-fashioned 
Roses,  that  all  this  blushing  and  unblushing 
is  tremendously  becoming." 

"  Thank  you  ;  but  I  must  paint  or  wear  a 
veil,  or  only  come  out  at  night.  There  is 
no  other  way." 

The  days  went  by,  all  much  alike,  in  the 
sunny  atmosphere  of  an  overwhelming  con- 
tent. In  the  woods  they  found  a  distant 
spot  which  laid  no  claim  to  publicity,  and 
here  upon  the  pine  carpet  with  the  drowsy 


AMOS  JUDD  187 

rustling  of  the  leaves  above,  they  passed  many 
hours  in  a  serene  indifference  to  the  flight  of 
time.  Sometimes  they  brought  a  book,  not 
a  page  of  which  was  ever  read,  but  no  deceit 
was  necessary,  as  the  only  witnesses  were  oc- 
casional birds  and  squirrels  whose  ideas  of 
decorum  were  primitive  and  none  too  strict. 
One  bird,  who  seemed  to  wear  a  dress-suit 
with  an  orange  shirt-front,  considered  his 
household  in  danger  and  acquired  an  inso- 
lent habit  of  perching  himself  upon  a  bough 
within  a  dozen  feet,  and  doing  his  best  to 
scare  them  off.  But  as  they  reappeared  day 
after  day  and  respected  his  rights  his  anger 
gradually  diminished,  until  at  last  he  varied 
his  vituperations  by  a  peculiar  song,  both 
joyous  and  triumphant,  which  amused  the 
interlopers. 

"I  should  like  to  know  what  his  little 
feelings  really  are,"  said  the  bride,  as  with 
a  pine-needle  she  annoyed  the  sensitive  por- 
tions of  the  head  reposing  in  her  lap.  The 
upturned  eyes  lingered  for  a  moment  upon 
the  patch  of  blue  between  the  pine-tops,  then 
with  a  look  of  mild  surprise  turned  lazily  to 
her  own. 

"  Do  you  really  mean  to  confess,  Gentle 
Roses,  that  you  don't  know  what  he  says?  " 


1 88  AMOS  JUDD 

As  this  speech  was  uttered  the  instrument 
of  torture  was  cleverly  inserted  between  the 
parted  lips.  "  No  ;  and  perhaps  I  don't  care 
to." 

"  But  listen.  There  !  Don't  you  get  it  ? 
He  knows  we  are  on  a  honeymoon  and 
keeps  repeating,  in  that  victorious  way : 

Amos  has  got  her . 
Amos  has  got  her  ! 

The  bride  laughed  ;  her  face  bent  over  to 
the  one  beneath,  but  the  bird  upon  the  bough 
was  not  disgusted.  He  stood  his  ground  and 
sang  his  song  as  if  Love  and  Folly  were 
things  to  be  respected. 

When  the  day  of  departure  came  they 
turned  their  backs  with  sorrow  upon  a  rest- 
ing-place whose  cosey  corners  they  knew  so 
well  and  whose  groves  no  grateful  lovers 
could  forget.  These  tender  memories  were 
a  soothing  recompense  for  descending  to  an 
earthly  life.  As  the  train  moved  away  she 
whispered,  "  Good-by,  honeymoon  !  " 

"  Don't  say  that!"  exclaimed  Amos. 
"  Let  us  hold  on  to  it  forever.  I  shall  die 
a  lover  and  I  expect  the  same  of  you." 

The  promise  to  Grandmother  Jouvenal 
was  not  forgotten,  and  when  they  left  the 


AMOS  JUDD  189 

train  at  a  little  station  in  Maryland  a  car- 
riage was  awaiting  them.  As  they  entered 
the  avenue  and  came  in  sight  of  the  old 
house,  Molly  regarded  her  companion  with 
eager  eyes  to  be  sure  that  he  was  properly 
impressed. 

"  It's  fine  !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  An  ideal 
mansion  of  the  period.  And  you  say  it  is 
over  two  hundred  years  old  ?  ' ' 

"  Yes,  the  main  house  is,  but  just  wait  till 
you  see  the  inside  !  It's  crammed  full  of 
colonial  furniture  and  family  portraits. " 

"  What  on  earth  is  the  circular  part  at  the 
end  of  that  wing  ?  Is  it  a  circus  or  only  a 
gymnasium  for  your  grandmother  ? ' ' 

Molly  laughed.  "  Thai's  the  library. 
Grandpa's  father  was  an  astronomer  and 
started  to  build  an  observatory,  but  died 
when  it  was  half-way  up ;  so  grandpa,  who 
was  not  an  astronomer,  finished  it  as  a  library. 
But  it  makes  a  beautiful  room." 

From  her  grandmother  they  received  a 
cordial  welcome.  It  was  dark  when  they 
arrived,  and  as  Mrs.  Jou venal  had  accepted 
for  them  an  invitation  to  a  dance  that  even- 
ing at  the  house  of  a  neighbor,  whose  daugh- 
ters were  old  playmates  of  Molly's,  there 
was  little  time  for  seeing  the  house.  But 


190  AMOS  JUDD 

Molly  did  not  like  to  wait  and  proposed  a 
hasty  tour,  wishing  to  Show  Amos  at  once 
the  old  portraits  and  furniture  and  the  treas- 
ures of  family  silver.  To  this  her  grand- 
mother objected.  "  Do  wait  till  to-morrow, 
child.  Your  Amos  can  sleep  without  it,  and 
besides  the  rooms  are  not  in  order  yet.  Re- 
member I  only  came  back  myself  this  morn- 
ing." 

And  so  that  pleasure  was  delayed.  They 
arrived  early  at  the  ball,  and  as  she  joined 
him  at  the  head  of  the  stairs  he  glanced  at  the 
jewels  in  her  hair  and  asked,  after  a  moment's 
hesitation,  if  she  would  do  him  a  little  favor. 

"  Of  course  I  will.  Only  name  it,  dusky 
Rajah,"  and  looking  up  at  him  with  admir- 
ing eyes  she  smiled  as  she  remembered  for 
the  hundredth  time  how  seriously  he  was 
annoyed  by  any  compliment  upon  his  ap- 
pearance. 

"  Are  you  very  much  attached  to  that 
crescent  in  your  hair  ?  ' ' 

"  If  I  were  it  should  make  no  difference. 
You  don't  like  it,  and  that's  enough,"  and 
she  raised  her  hand  to  remove  the  ornament. 
But  he  interrupted  the  motion.  "  Don't 
take  it  off  now,  for  you  have  nothing  to  re- 
place it ;  but  that  is  the  smallest  part  of  the 


AMOS  JUDD  191 

request.  The  real  favor  is  that  you  shall  not 
ask  me  why  I  do  it." 

"  That  is  asking  a  good  deal,  but  I  con- 
sent. And  now  tell  me,  how  do  I  look  ? 
There  is  a  wretched  light  in  there/' 

"  You  look  like  what  you  are,  the  joy  of 
to-day  and  the  rainbow  of  a  happy  morrow. ' ' 

"  No,  be  serious.  Is  my  hair  in  every 
direction  ?  ' ' 

He  regarded  her  gravely  and  with  care. 
"  Your  hair  is  just  right,  and  for  general  ef- 
fect you  are  far  and  away  the  prettiest,  the 
daintiest,  the  most  highbred  -  looking  girl 
within  a  thousand  miles  of  this  or  of  any 
other  spot ;  and  if  we  were  alone  and  unob- 
served, I  should  gather  you  in  as — "  Voices 
close  at  hand  caused  them  to  turn  and  de- 
scend the  stairs  with  the  solemnity  of  an 
ancient  couple  who  find  dignity  a  restful 
substitute  for  the  frivolities  of  youth.  Once 
in  the  ball-room,  with  the  wild  Hungarian 
music  at  their  heels,  there  was  little  repose 
for  two  such  dancers.  When  the  first  notes 
of  the  waltz  that  Molly  loved  above  all 
others,  came  floating  across  the  hall,  Amos 
cut  in  before  a  youth  who  was  hastening 
toward  the  bride  and  swung  her  out  into  the 
floor.  As  they  glided  away  with  the  music 


192  AMOS  JUDD 

that  was  stirring  in  her  heart  old  memories 
of  what  seemed  a  previous  existence,  she 
heard  at  her  ear  "  Do  you  remember  when 
first  we  waltzed  ?  How  you  did  snub  me  ! 
But  life  began  that  night." 

Instead  of  returning  at  eleven  o'clock, 
they  returned  at  two  in  the  morning.  By 
Amos' s  request  it  had  been  arranged  that  no 
servant  should  sit  up  for  them,  but  when 
they  entered  the  hall  and  found  it  dark 
Molly  expressed  surprise  that  not  a  single 
light  should  have  been  left  burning.  They 
easily  found  the  matches,  however,  and 
lighted  a  candle.  Amos  had  just  learned 
from  the  coachman  that  a  letter  ready  at  six 
in  the  morning  would  go  by  an  early  train,  so 
Molly  showed  him  a  little  desk  of  her  grand- 
mother's in  the  dining-room,  and  then  left 
him  to  his  writing.  Passing  through  the 
hall  toward  the  stairs  she  happened  to  look 
into  a  sitting-room,  and  beyond  it,  through 
a  corridor,  saw  a  portion  of  the  big  library 
where  the  moonlight  fell  upon  a  marble 
bust.  She  paused,  then  returning  to  the 
door  of  the  dining-room,  asked, 

"  How  long  shall  you  be  at  that  letter, 
little  prince  ?  ' ' 

"Not  five  minutes.'' 


AMOS  JUDD  193 

"  Then  come  into  the  library  and  see  it 
in  the  moonlight.  You  will  find  a  girl  there 
who  is  interested  in  you." 

"  All  right.  That  girl  will  not  wait 
long." 

Although  familiar  with  the  old  library, 
Molly  was  impressed  anew  by  its  stately 
proportions  as  she  entered  from  the  little 
corridor.  The  spacious  room  was  now 
flooded  by  the  moonlight  that  streamed 
through  the  high  windows  at  the  farther  end 
and  brought  out,  in  ghostly  relief,  the  white 
Ionic  columns  against  the  encircling  wall. 
Between  them,  in  varying  shapes  and  sizes, 
hung  the  family  portraits,  and  in  front  of 
every  column  stood  a  pedestal  with  its  mar- 
ble bust.  At  the  present  moment  the  pallid 
face  of  Dante  caught  the  moonbeams,  and 
seemed  to  follow  her  with  solemn  eyes.  As 
she  swept  with  a  rustle  of  silk  along  the 
huge,  round,  crimson  carpet,  she  remembered 
how  deeply  she  had  been  impressed  in  for- 
mer years  by  the  knowledge  that  it  was  made 
in  England  expressly  for  this  room.  The 
perfect  stillness  was  broken  only  by  herself 
and  as  she  moved  out  into  the  wide  circle  of 
mysterious  faces. 

At  her  right,  between  two  of  the  columns, 


194  AMOS  JUDD 

in  a  lofty  mirror  that  filled  the  space  from 
floor  to  cornice,  marched  her  own  reflection. 
She  stopped,  and  regarded  it.  With  her 
white  dress  and  the  moonlight  upon  her  head 
and  shoulders,  it  was  a  striking  figure  and 
recalled  the  night,  a  year  ago,  when  she 
stood  at  the  window  of  her  chamber,  and 
tried  in  vain  to  discover  why  such  a  vision 
should  have  startled  Mr.  Amos  Judd.  Mr. 
Amos  Judd  !  How  she  hated  him  that 
night  !  Hated  him  !  the  dear,  lovely,  old, 
perfect  Amos  !  She  smiled,  and  beat  time 
with  a  foot,  humming  a  fragment  of  that  be- 
witching waltz.  And  the  crescent  that  he 
had  asked  her  not  to  wear  again,  flashed 
back  at  her  from  the  mirror.  She  would  re- 
move it  now,  upon  the  instant,  and  never 
more,  not  even  to-night,  should  the  dear 
boy  be  troubled  by  it.  As  her  fingers 
touched,  the  jewels  she  saw  something  in 
the  mirror  that  sent  the  blood  from  her 
heart,  and  caused  the  hand  to  drop  convul- 
sively to  her  breast.  Behind  her,  across  the 
room,  in  the  shadow  of  a  pedestal,  were  glis- 
tening two  other  things  that  moved  like  a 
pair  of  human  eyes.  With  an  involuntary 
cry  she  wheeled  about,  and  before  she  could 
turn  again  at  a  sudden  movement  behind 


AMOS  JUDD  195 

her,  an  arm  was  thrown  about  her  waist, 
strong  ringers  clutched  her  throat  and  in  her 
ear  came  a  muttered  warning  ;  "  Be  quiet, 
lady,  or  it's  up  with  yer !  ' ' 

But  the  cry  had  reached  Amos  in  the  dis- 
tant dining-room,  and  she  heard  his  foot- 
steps hurrying  across  the  hall.  The  fingers 
tightened  at  her  throat ;  she  was  pushed 
with  violence  into  the  shadow  of  the  nearest 
column,  and  held  there.  Gasping,  strang- 
ling, she  seized  instinctively  with  both 
hands  the  wrist  that  was  pressing  the  life 
from  her  body,  but  her  feeble  fingers  against 
such  a  strength  were  as  nothing.  Pressing 
close  upon  her  she  saw  the  dim  outline  of 
a  cap  upon  the  back  of  a  head,  a  big  neck, 
and  a  heavy  chin.  With  bursting  throbs 
the  blood  beat  through  her  head  and  eyes, 
and  she  would  have  sunk  to  the  floor  but 
for  the  hands  that  held  her  with  an  iron 
force. 

In  this  torture  of  suffocation  came  a  blur, 
but  through  it  she  saw  Amos  spring  into 
the  room,  then  stop  for  a  second  as  if  to 
find  his  bearings. 

"  Moll/'  he  said,  in  a  half- whisper. 

There  was  no  answer.  Fainting,  power- 
less even  to  make  an  effort,  she  saw  the  man 


196  AMOS  JUDD 

before  her  raise  a  revolver  with  his  other 
hand,  and  take  deliberate  aim  at  the  broad, 
white  shirt-front,  an  easy  target  in  the  sur- 
rounding gloom.  In  an  agony  of  despair 
she  made  a  frenzied  effort,  struck  up  the 
weapon  as  the  shot  was  fired,  and  sent  the 
bullet  high  above  its  mark,  through  the 
waistcoat  of  a  colonial  governor. 

The  next  instant  the  fingers  were  torn 
from  her  throat,  and  as  she  sank  half- faint- 
ing to  her  knees,  the  two  men  in  a  savage 
tussle  swayed  out  into  the  room,  then  back 
with  such  force  against  a  pedestal  that  it 
tottered,  and  with  its  heavy  bust  came 
crashing  to  the  floor. 

The  struggling  figures  also  fell.  The 
burglar  was  beneath,  and  as  he  landed,  his 
weapon  was  knocked  from  his  hand.  With  a 
blow  and  a  sudden  twist  Amos  wrenched 
away,  picked  up  the  pistol,  turned  upon  his 
swiftly  rising  foe,  and  sent  a  bullet  through 
his  skull.  Without  a  sound  the  man  sank 
back  again  to  the  floor. 

"  Are  you  hurt,  Moll  ?  "  was  the  first  ques^ 
tion  as  Amos  took  a  step  toward  the  white, 
crouching  figure.  Her  bare  arm  shot  out  in- 
to the  moonlight  and  a  finger  pointed  across 
the  library.  "  There's  another  !  look  out !  " 


AMOS  JUDD  197 

The  second  man,  in  his  stocking  feet  like 
his  comrade,  had  crept  from  his  hiding 
place,  and  as  she  pointed  he  swung  up  his  pis- 
tol and  pulled  the  trigger.  But  Amos  was 
quicker.  Shots  in  rapid  succession  echoed 
through  the  house,  two,  three,  perhaps  half- 
a  dozen,  she  never  knew ;  but  she  saw  to  her 
joy,  that  Amos  at  the  end  of  it  all  was  still 
standing,  while  the  burglar,  with  a  smothered 
malediction,  tumbled  heavily  into  an  easy 
chair  behind  him,  slid  out  of  it  to  his  knees, 
and  pitched  forward  on  his  face.  There  was 
a  convulsive  twitching  of  the  legs,  and  all 
was  still  again.  Beneath  him  lay  a  bag  into 
which,  a  few  moments  before,  had  been 
stuffed  the  ancestral  silver. 

As  she  climbed  painfully  to  her  feet, 
grasping  with  tremulous  fingers  a  chair  at 
her  side,  she  saw  Amos  turn  about,  and 
with  wavering  steps,  approach  the  column 
between  the  windows  where,  in  the  full 
light  of  the  moon,  hung  a  little  calendar, 
and  on  it 

Nov. 

4 

He  uttered  no  sound,  but  his  head  drooped 
and  he  staggered  back.  Reeling  against  a 
low  divan  he  fell  his  length  upon  it,  and  lay 


198  AMOS  JUDD 

with  upturned  face,  motionless  as  the  two 
men  upon  the  floor. 

Molly  hastened  to  his  side  and  bent  over 
him  with  an  anxious  question.  In  the  full 
rays  of  the  moon  her  head  and  neck  with 
the  white  dress  were  almost  luminous  against 
the  dim  recesses  of  the  room  behind  ;  and 
his  eyes  rested  with  a  dazed,  half- frightened 
look  on  the  diamond  crescent,  then  fell  to 
her  face,  and  up  again  to  the  jewels  in  her 
hair.  With  an  effort  he  laid  a  hand  upon 
her  shoulder  and  answered,  with  a  feeble 
smile,  ' l  The  end  has  come,  old  Moll. ' ' 

"No,  no.  Don't  say  that!  I'll  send 
for  the  doctor  and  have  him  here  at  once  !  " 

But  the  hand  restrained  her.  "  It's  of  no 
use.  The  ball  went  here,  through  the  chest. " 

"But,  darling,  your  life  may  depend  up- 
on it!  You  don't  know." 

"  Yes — I  do  know.  My  own  death,  with 
you  bending  over  me  in  the  moonlight — in 
this  room — I  saw  before  we  ever  met.  The 
same  vision  again — when  you  stood  before 
me  in  the  conservatory,  was  what — startled 
me — that  night,  a  year  ago." 

He  spoke  with  difficulty,  in  a  failing 
voice.  There  followed  broken  words  ;  from 
the  face  against  his  own  tears  fell  upon  his 


AMOS  JUDD  199 

cheek,  and  she  murmured,  "Take  me  with 
you,  Amos." 

«  No — not  that ;  "  then  slowly,  in  a  voice 
growing  fainter  with  each  word,  "but  there 
is  no  Heaven  without  you,  Spirit — of  Old- 
Fashioned — Roses. ' ' 

A  gentle  pressure  from  the  fingers  that 
held  her  own,  and  in  the  moonlight  lay  a 
peaceful  face  where  a  smile  still  lingered  on 
the  lips. 


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PS2409 

Mitchell,   J.A.  M2 

Amos  Judd.  A6 


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